


For Better, For Worse

by Hekate1308



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Drowley, M/M, lawyer!Sam, mechanic!Dean, single parent crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11793009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: Fergus Crowley's life had been much easier before he'd learned he had a teenage son. Now, after the death of his mother, Gavin was living with him - and as morose and uncooperative as could be. At least he could forget about his troubles for a few hours with the handsome brother of his favourite lawyer... Drowley.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first Drowley multi chapter. Let's do this.

“YOU SUCK!!!!“

With these words of wisdom, Gavin slammed the door of his room shut. Crowley could have sworn the walls vibrated slightly.

He sighed and took a sip of his glass of wine. If only he could have had some Craig, but that would have to wait until his _dearest_ mother had left.

“You don’t seem to do very well when it comes to rearing your child, dearie” she remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe it’s because I myself was raised by someone who wanted to trade me for three pigs once.”

“It was the Sixties; you can hardly blame me for anything I did during that decade.”

Including bearing you, she meant, as he was very aware of; but he’d long grown indifferent to the countless insults his mother liked to throw at him.

“It’s hardly my fault we don’t have a relationship” he found himself saying anyway, “his mother never even told me she was pregnant”.

He and Lilith Adams had had a short fling sixteen years ago; the result of which he had only learned about two months before, when police had contacted him to let him know his former paragon had died in a car crash and left their fifteen-year-old son behind.

He’d insisted on a paternity test which, in hindsight, might not have been the best way to endear himself to his offspring. Gavin had already been reared to think rather little of his father, and now that he’d had to move to Kansas since Crowley’s business made it impossible for him to move himself...

Things were not going all that well.

Especially when his mother decided to grace them with their presence.

Tonight’s argument had been about school. While he did understand that it was mostly a waste of time – he’d never learned anything useful in his years of schooling – it was sadly necessary if one wanted to pursue a career eventually. Gavin didn’t seem to agree.

“I wonder why” Rowena commented drily.

His head was beginning to ache.

“Maybe you’re not everyone’s idea of a loving grandmother”.

True, she and Lilith had only met once, but that meeting had been enough to prove they heartily despised one another.

“Neither do I see you carrying around diaper bags”.

“That’s hardly necessary now”.

It did sound like it would have been easier than dealing with a teenager who’d just lost the only parent he’d ever known, though.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure he’s house trained yet.”

“Mother” he said tiredly. He’d not spent all day working on contracts, making deals and intimidating people to come home to this.

“Then again, he might just need a little outside influence. Any chance you’ll be off the market soon?”

Little to none. Not only did he like very much to be on the market, thank you, he was hardly cut out for a romantic relationship to begin with.

Not that this would interest Rowena.

She stood up when she realized his patience was wearing thin.

“Well, not that I haven’t enjoyed this wonderful family dinner, but it’s time I go home. Goodnight, Fergus; please greet my grandson from me, would you?”

She knew very well he despised his first name.

He didn’t accompany her to the front door.

When he came back, he studied the plates on the table. Gavin hadn’t finished his dinner. Again.

He was starting to worry. Weren’t teenagers, especially male ones, supposed to have a good appetite? Then again, maybe it was different if they were grieving? And he was grieving, surely? He never really spoke of his mother, but that didn’t have to mean anything. Or did it?

Of all the things he’d learned in his life, child psychology had never been one of them.

Gavin was playing loud music in his room once more, he heard when he went to check on him. Or rather, stand outside his door for a moment; them talking would only lead to more fighting, and he’d rather have a glass of Craig and go to bed. He could have knocked to deliver Rowena’s greetings, but since his grandmother seemed to be the only person he hated more than Crowley himself (understandably) he didn’t.

Instead, he did exactly what he’d wanted to do ever since they sat down for their ill-fated family dinner.

The next morning did nothing to alleviate his mood. Gavin was silent and morose during breakfast, and angrily declined his offer to have him driven straight to school; well then. If he’d rather sit in an awful bus surrounded by other foul-mouthed teenagers, so be it.

Crowley, of course, let himself get picked up by his driver, as always.

He spent the morning in meetings with mostly idiots, although young Despawn was finally showing something of the promise his resume had made.

Lunch at his favourite restaurant, as usual taken alone, made him feel somewhat better; and checking his calendar, he thankfully realized that his first meeting in the afternoon would be with Sam Winchester.

Some hopeless idiot had decided to sue them, which would normally enrage him; but Winchester was a great lawyer. They could talk this through and get rid of that problem quickly, at least.

Therefore, he was rather predisposed to actually having something off a good day, when he stepped out of the restaurant and saw his driver bent over the open hood of his car, frowning.

As he stuttered an apology for the car suddenly ceasing to work, Crowley fought down the urge to direct his anger at him. It wasn’t his fault, and the man was a good driver.

Still, he had to walk back to his company, and he arrived late for the meeting with Sam Winchester, hot and annoyed.

“I’m sorry. My car broke down”.

The lawyer winced in sympathy. Small wonder; his job required him to wear a suit as well. He could hardly be comfortable in this weather himself.

“No reason to apologize, Mr. Crowley. Let’s just talk this through...”

Thank God Winchester knew when he was up for a chat and when he wasn’t. There was a reason he usually insisted on talking to him personally. They even had dinner as business acquaintances now and then, which was why Crowley knew about his brother, who’d opened a shop of some kind a few years back, and Sam had been the one to handle his custody papers after Lilith’s death. He could also be sure that he wouldn’t gossip about his newly acquired son, another quality Crowley appreciated greatly.

So really, it came as no surprise when Sam fished a business card out of his pocket at the end of their meeting (which had thankfully finished his legal troubles for now).

“I don’t know if you remember... My brother opened a restoration shop three years ago...”

Restoration. That had been it.

“I do.”

“Point is, he’s a great mechanic. He does repairs as well – if it’s something minor and he has the time, he might even get it done quickly so you can drive home tonight”.

It sounded too good to be true, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt to show Sam his appreciation by trying out his brother. And if he turned out to be a decent enough mechanic and the price was acceptable, even better.

He passed the information on to his driver as soon as Winchester had left. The rest of the afternoon passed quietly. 

He still fully expected a taxi to be already waiting for him; but instead, his driver stood next to his car, someone in a mechanic uniform just closing the hood.

“There. It should run now.”

The man turned around.

Even Crowley, who’d never been chaste and slept with a fair number of beautiful men and women, had to admit that he was extraordinarily handsome.

Green eyes, freckles, probably in his mid-to-late thirties, a little taller than him...

Yes, this was indeed a man worthy to look at and appreciate.

“Hello. You must be Mr. Crowley” he addressed him.

He idly wondered what Sam might have told him about him as he returned his greeting.

“Nothing big; just some trouble with the oil. After Garth here told me what was wrong, I decided to drop by and fix it here, save us all the trouble from taking it to the shop.”

“That was very considerate of you”.

It had also cost him quite some money he could have gained from their transaction, but Crowley wasn’t going to point taht out. After all, his brother and he regularly did business; it was another string in the web of professionals he’d slowly built up over the last thirty years.

The brother – Dean, he remembered suddenly from the business card, Dean – shrugged.

“It lay on my way home anyway. No point in dragging this out unnecessarily.”

He wiped his hands clean. Crowley was tempted to reach out, just to learn what a handshake would feel like.

It’d been a while since he’d been this attracted to anyone, and with the stress of suddenly having to raise a child thrown in...

“The bill...” he began, thinking of Gavin sitting at home. Not that he expected him to anxiously waiting for him – he had to make sure he hadn’t torn the house down.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll send it tomorrow. I imagine you wanna get home ASAP.”

Yes, he would be interested to find out what exactly Sam had told him. From what he’d gathered, the brothers had always been close; Sam had once off-handedly mentioned that he’d more or less raised him.

Oh well. Dean diddn’t look like he was much into gossip either, and there was little harm in a mechanic on the other side of town knowing he had a son.

“Thank you, that is indeed the case”.

Was that just his imagination or had Dean’s eyes just trailed down his body appreciatively?

Garth cleared his throat to remind that he could, now, indeed go home instead of just standing there.

Pity. He’d have liked to continue their conversation, but some things were not meant to be.

Gavin was in his room again, playing punk music. Until he’d moved in with him, Crowley had assumed that was just a cliché portrayal of teenagers, but apparently, he’d been wrong.

Thankfully, he’d always found cooking relaxing, and some of the stress of the day faded as he prepared their meals. Plus, his mother wasn’t going to eat with them today.

He knocked on Gavin’s door.

“Dinner’s ready”.

“Not hungry” came the muffled response.

He sighed.

“Even so, you should eat something”.

Whether he wanted to or not, he needed to eat, and Crowley was determined that he would.

After a pause Gavin called out, “You’re still there?”

“And I will continue to be until I’ve seen you consume your dinner.”

A sigh. The music stopped.

The door opened and Gavin shuffled out, looking as usual pissed at the world in general and Crowley especially.

He swept past him without a word.

Crowley sighed and followed him.

He had no idea where all these idiots who called themselves experts got the idea that having dinner together was supposed to help family members bonding with each other. They had forced themselves through this farce for months now and he’d never really succeeded in having a talk with his son that hadn’t ended in him storming of.

So tonight, he opted for silence. It was better than the inevitable headache.

Gavin did pick at his food, but at least he swallowed some of it.

After he’d gone back to his room, Crowley let himself sink down on the couch with a glass of his favourite drink in hand, and for no particular reason, thought of Dean Winchester. These eyes...

The bill that was to come tomorrow was sure to have a phone number on it...

On the one hand, he was Sam Winchester’s brother. And while he and Sam were not friends by any means, he was an excellent lawyer Crowley would rather be on the good side on.

On the other hand...

Dean Winchester certainly seemed like just the right person to take his mind off everything, just for a short while. 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean picked up the phone.

“Winchester’s Wheels. How can I help you?”

“Hello. Garth Fitzgerald, I’m a driver at Crowley Enterprises...”

It took Dean a moment to recognize the name. Huh. Wasn’t that the rich guy Sammy sometimes met in the course of his work?

Anyway, the story sounded simple enough. The car had just decided to stop working, it seemed, and the driver, who seemed pretty scared of his boss, come to think of it, was eager to get it fixed in time for him to be driven home.

If there was one thing Dean Winchester was good at, it was fixing cars.

After he’d hung up, he sent Sam a text.

_Did you just get me a job? Thanks, bro._

The reply came quickly.

_Nothing to thank me for. Just take care if Crowley shows up; he’s been a bit jumpy lately._

Remembering that Sam had told him about how he’d been granted the custody of a teenage son he’d never even known about, Dean couldn’t blame him.

Oh well. He’d dealt with enough short-tempered clients. That one guy Alastair for whom he’d restored a Corvette still sent shivers down his spine.

He quickly decided that it would be best to fix Crowley’s car last. The firm was situated between his shop and home; he’d close up a bit earlier than usual and check it out.

It turned out it was indeed nothing serious. From the way Garth acted, Dean thought he was ready to kiss him, though.

“Man” he commented as he worked on the car, “Your boss must be a real piece of work.”

Nothing against some small talk, and if he got some gossip for Sam, even better.

“That’s not it. Really, he’s quite fair. He has just been... stressed lately.”

“My brother knows him. Told me about his not-so-baby drama. Must suck for all involved.”

Especially the kid. Imagine having to leave everything you’ve ever known behind and not getting a say to where you are going to live.

Garth sighed.

“I don’t think it’s going well, to be honest. I really shouldn’t be talking about it.”

“Sorry, man. Didn’t want to get you into trouble. Just wanted someone to talk to after hanging around cars all day, you know?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Believe me, I know”.

Dean gave him a cheeky grin and they began talking about cars. A safe enough object, if a bit stale after eight solid hours spent around them.

As he finished, he felt a presence behind him. He turned around and mustered who he assumed to be the business man they had been talking about earlier.

Huh. Not quite what he’d been expecting. Sure, Sammy had never really described the guy – he’d just once muttered something along the lines He was probably born in a suit – but Dean had never imagined this.

Pretty attractive, if he was being honest. Far out of his league, of course, and a little too old, but still...

The guy was polite enough too, really. Probably only played the tough guy during business hours.

At least he would be coming home to his son punctually now, Dean thought driving back to his empty apartment himself.  

God knew Dean knew was aware how difficult father-son relationships could be.

* * *

 

The bill duly arrived. A fair price, too. Seemed the Winchesters were just good business partners.

He waited till near the end of the day to call. One of his earliest lessons had been never to mix business with pleasure, and it had always served him well.

Still, he was surprised at his own impatience. He had after all only seen the man once.

Maybe it was because Gavin had been especially morose and annoying this morning. Apparently he “didn’t like breakfast, I told you a hundred times already – “

He’d tried to explain, also for the hundredth time, that he should eat something regardless, especially since he’d lost weight in the last few months.

Crowley was growing impatient. He appreciated that things couldn’t be easy for Gavin. It hadn’t been easy on either of them. But even at fifteen, one could make an effort if one chose to; there was no reason for him to still act like Crowley had personally killed Lilith.

Come to think of it, part of him would have appreciated the possibility. Things didn’t end that badly between them; they’d always known it was only going to be a short fling. She could have told him they had a child.  

They would never have become a couple, but he would have fulfilled his responsibilities.

And now they were essentially strangers stuck together because he couldn’t allow his own son going into foster care. He knew about those places.

He shook his head. Dwelling on what might have been was a useless pastime.

And the phone number was right there, tempting him.

He might as well try.

* * *

 

Dean had just finished working on another pricey European car – not his favourites, but he sure earned money with them – when the phone rang.

A minute later, Charlie called him over.

“Dean, someone’s insisting on speaking with you. Says his name is Crowley.”

He really hoped the car hadn’t broken down again. From what Sammy had said, the man better shouldn’t be crossed.

His politeness yesterday notwithstanding.

He walked into the office, his best friend smirking at him.

Not a complaint then, probably.

He inclined his head in a question. She shrugged, but her eyes sparkled, as if she knew something he didn’t.

“Hello Mr. Crowley?”

“Mr. Winchester”.

As smooth and polite as he’d sounded yesterday.

“Yes. Is there something the matter – “

“No, not at all. In fact, Garth has informed me the car has never run better.”

Returning Charlie’s grin, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me this Friday”.

That was... unexpected to say the least. Charlie suppressed a snigger and Dean shot her a deadly glare.

He bit his lip. He knew exactly what would follow this dinner.

And he knew that Sammy would be pissed if he did it.

But, on the other hand...

He did find Crowley attractive. This was only going to be a one-time thing. And Sammy didn’t have to find out... ever.

“Yeah, I’d like that”.

After they’ve talked about the location and time – a diner that’s a little bit over the price rage he’d normally go for, but still low-class enough that he’d feel comfortable there at eight pm – and have hung up with all the solemnity of a business call, he turned to Charlie.

“Now what are you so gleeful about?”

“Are we going to pretend I didn’t listen? I already knew, by the way. Always know when someone’s sweet on my handmaiden. So, is it a date?”

He grinned.

“Of the temporary sort”.

She sighed.

“Oh Dean, Dean, Dean, if you continue that, you’ll end up an old maid”.

“Fine by me”.

“Hah, we’ll see if you still say the same when you’re bouncing my and Glinda’s beautiful grandbabies on your knees”.

They left it at that.

* * *

Dean was aware that this wasn’t a good idea.

Or rather, it wasn’t according to Sam. He didn’t like it when Dean went after his clients.

Really, he thought he was being melodramatic. That had only been one time, and Lisa...

Dean shook his head. That was complicated, and he didn’t want to think about it.

Plus he wasn’t “going after” Crowley. The guy had asked him out, his intentions pretty clear, and there was nothing wrong with blowing off steam.

It had been a while since he got laid anyway.

And maybe, he thought a little guilty, Sam never had to find out. There was no reason to think Crowley would brag about their assignation to his brother of all people.

And they were all adults here. He was sure they could handle it.

* * *

 

It was good Crowley had something to look forward to, because it was one of those days Gavin had decided to be especially difficult.

“I am not saying I don’t understand you don’t want to concentrate on school right now, but considering your maths teacher thought it necessary to call me personally...”

“And what did you tell her? That you do the outmost to avoid me anyway, so she’d have more luck attending a séance to talk to Mom?”

Crowley forced himself to remain calm.

“I am not the one sequestering himself in his room” he pointed out. Gavin wasn’t making any sense. He only came down to their meals because Crowley forced him, and every time he attempted to get him to come out at other times, he shouted abuse at him.

He was well aware teenagers weren’t supposed to make sense, but even he’d been far better adjusted then, and he’d had to deal with Rowena as a mother.

“You – ugh, you know what? You don’t get it”.

“Then maybe explain, so I can.”

“You wouldn’t understand anyway!”

“How am I supposed to know whether this is true or not? You cannot accuse me of not understanding when you refuse to explain – “

“YOU JUST DON’T GET IT!!!”

“HOW WHEN I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I AM SUPPOSED TO “GET””

Now they had ended up shouting after all.

He wondered if screaming matches with Lilith had been part of Gavin’s daily routine. Knowing her, he wouldn’t have been surprised.

Gavin ended their discussion once more by storming upstairs and slamming his door shut.

Crowley mustered his plate.

From the looks of it, he’d barely had three bites.

That couldn’t be good.

He was beginning to think that he might have done them both a favour if he had let Gavin go into the system after all.

They certainly had a few trained professionals who could handle teenagers, right?

Who was he kidding. No matter what happened, Gavin was his son, and he couldn’t just put him through that.

Even his mother had kept him, after all. And that hadn’t been easy as a single mother in the Sixties.

Even though he still secretly wished she’d just put him up for adoption. Would have been easier for all of them.

He massaged his temples. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

* * *

 

Surprise; Adler was an asshole.

Not that Dean hasn’t known that when he’d taken the job, but renovating the old-timer had just been too tempting a concept to pass up.

“But what about the rims?” Adler insisted once more. Dean told himself to be patient.

“I assure you sir, I am qualified for – “

“But you are supposed to – “

“Listen, sir” Charlie interrupted him cheerfully, “Dean’s the best, alright? That’s why you are here. You know fully well that we’d pay for anything going wrong in the process”.

Thank God for Charlie. Some days, he thought he would go crazy without her.

She led Adler away as Dean turned back to the car and sighed.

Unexpectedly, he thought of Friday and the date he’d be going on.

Yeah, he was really looking forward to the distraction.

_Sorry Sammy, some things gotta give._

* * *

 

The rest of the week passed very much like the days before. Gavin still wouldn’t talk to him and only picked at his food; Crowley was not quite so desperate to ask his mother for help, but feared he was getting there, one step at a time.

At least his business was booming, as it should.

Dick Roman, a business man who was slowly extending his influence in Crowley’s town, called to arrange a meeting for the next week. Interesting. Could be a good opportunity.

Careful, though. He was nothing if not careful.

 _I’m sure your son would disagree with that statement,_ his inner voice told him.

Crowley sighed.

He still didn’t think of himself as a father, no matter how often he’d studied the results of the DNA test.

That said, he was also rather sure that Gavin didn’t consider himself his son by any means.

Thank God it was finally Friday. 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean was not nervous about the date, no matter what Charlie said.

He had also not been standing in front of his mirror for ten minutes trying to decide what to wear.

He checked the watch.

Hah. He had been right. Only eight minutes and a half.

Alright, so maybe he was a little nervous. It had been a while since he was on an actual date. He usually picked up his one night stands in bars.

Of course Crowley would rather do dinner beforehand instead. He wasn’t surprised in the least.

And, really, he was looking forward to it. He hadn’t gone out to eat with someone who wasn’t Sam or Charlie – or Benny when he visited his diner – in years.

In the end, he chose a simple but elegant button-down and dark jeans. Classy enough, but not giving the impression he was trying too hard.

Crowley’d probably show up in a suit, if Sam’s theory that he hadn’t worn anything else since the day he was born was anything to go by, but that didn’t mean Dean had to wear one as well.

It wasn’t as if he was trying to impress someone who’d stick around for the long haul.

Still – he was looking forward to this. Work had been a bit stressful lately.

He got a text from Charlie that simply said _Have fun._

He rolled his eyes. He didn’t know what he’d do without her.

Sam called and for a second he considered not answering, then reminded himself that he was an adult, he could have dinner with whoever he wanted.

“Hey Sammy.”

“Dean. Do you want to come over? Sarah’s cooking dinner.”

His sister-in-law happily was a good cook; Dean suspected that they would come over to leach off him far more often if they had to rely on Sam’s skills to survive. Not that he would have minded.

“Sorry, I’ve got a date.”

A pause.

“Did you just tell me you have a date?”

“Not what you would call one” he conceded.

Sam sighed.

“Hey, I make my own decisions, thank you very much.”

“I know that, Dean.”

There it was again, that sad tone. Sam made no secret of his wish that his brother end up as happy as he was.

Trouble was, Dean wasn’t sure he was cut out for that life style. At all.

* * *

 

“Nah, I’m good. Go and have fun fucking whoever caught your fancy”.

Crowley reminded himself that he wasn’t supposed to shout at Gavin.

Again.

All he had done was ask him if he would be alright for the evening since he had a dinner date.

“I’m not a baby you know. You can tell me.”

“Maybe I will if you stop acting like one”.

He slammed his door shut once more.

Crowley wondered if he’d have to get a locksmith to repair it soon.

He could have called someone to watch Gavin – there were more than enough employees who’d have been glad for a chance to endear themselves to him – but he had the feeling he wouldn’t like it.

Oh well.

Time to concentrate on the more pleasant things in life.

* * *

 

Dean arrived punctually at the restaurant. He’d never seen the point in being “fashionably late” and he was certain Crowley didn’t either.

He was right; he was already waiting for him, but didn’t look the least bit impatient.

“Dean” he stood up as soon as he reached the table.

“Hi...” he trailed off, unsure how to address the guy.

“Crowley’s good enough”.

Dean smirked.

“Not fond of your first name?”

“My mother gave it to me. No reason to like it”.

Alright. Dean had known something was up with that woman since Sam had met her at a function once and even his little brother had been tempted into describing her as a “witch”. Best not speak of parents then.

He could relate.

“You look stressed” he observed.

That probably wasn’t the best beginning, but in his defence, it had been a while since he had been on a date, and there were indeed circles under Crowley’s eyes.

Unexpectedly, he chuckled.

“Not many would dare tell me that to my face”.

“Just an observation”.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I am starting to see why Sam speaks so fondly of you”.

He grinned, as always when he thought of his brothers.

“What about you? No siblings?”

Crowley frowned.

“None I would want to speak of”.

“Sorry”.

“No, it’s okay. Only my mother greatly preferred my half-brother until he died in a car accident several years ago. He was drunk and thankfully didn’t hurt anyone else, but she has yet to forgive me to be the one to survive”.

Wow. For a first date, that was pretty heavy stuff, especially since they probably wouldn’t see each other again after tonight.

Crowley seemed to realized that as well.

“I must apologize...”

“Don’t. Seems we’re both pretty bad at this”.

“Apparently. Maybe we should just continue in the same vein and pretend this is normal”.

Dean laughed.

“Well then. Sam told me you have a son living with you who you didn’t know anything about until a few months ago. How is he?”

He was genuinely interested. God knew the poor guy probably needed all the help he could get.

Crowley sighed.

“I am not taking that as a good sign”.

“I never wished to have children, and since Gavin arrived I have learned that I am not very gifted when it comes to them”.

“I’m sure it will get better in time.”

“Yes, when he goes to college”.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad. For once” Dean said with a cheeky grin “if he has your genes, he must be kind of cute”.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ll show you kind of cute”.

“I except so – after dinner” he said with a wink.

“Oh trust me, I fully intend that”.

Damn, Dean thought, that should not sound so sexy. Sorry Sammy, but you have to understand I couldn’t pass that up.

* * *

 

Not only was the dinner pretty good and the company fun, but Crowley did indeed show him later that night, and Dean found no reason to complain. Definitely a date for the top of his list of one night stands. 

He woke up the next morning, feeling refreshed and relaxed; Crowley was still out cold next to him, and he decided to slip out quietly and spare them both the awkwardness.

It had been good sex, great even, but that was it.

On his way to the door, he passed the kitchen though, and decided he might as well make the guy coffee as a thank you for a wonderful evening.

He’d only forgotten one little thing.

As he was pouring himself a cup, a voice startled him.

“ _Ugh_ , he screwed you while I was asleep in my room, didn’t he”.

* * *

 

When he woke up, Dean was gone.

At least they hadn’t had to have awkward small talk while he was getting dressed.

Still – not that he’d been anxious for a repeat of last night, but it would have been nice...

Crowley sighed. Time to go back to his routine on weekends – these days being insulted by his son and hoping his mother wouldn’t drop by again.

To his surprise, he saw that it was past ten am. Usually, he woke up well before eight, on weekends as well as on regular days. He used to go to work regardless of the day too, but since Gavin had come to live with him, they were supposed to be bonding so he usually stayed at home.

He wondered if he was up yet.

Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t this.

Dean, his mother _and_ his son were having pancakes for breakfast in his kitchen.

Rowena was the first to see him.

“Fergus” she greeted him, “Come and have one of these delicious pancakes your – _friend_ cooked for us...”

Dean, blushing fiercely, looked up from his plate.

Irritated, Crowley had to admit that he looked quite as beautiful in the morning as he did at night.

“Good morning” he said.

Dean shot him a look that clearly stated _I’ll explain later_ – how he could already read him so well even though they’d only just met, he couldn’t say – and said, “Morning. Hope you don’t mind.”

“By no means”.

It was nice to eat breakfast he hadn’t had to cook himself, even if he had to eat with his mother.

And Gavin –

Gavin was actually eating, he was relieved to see.

More devouring his pancakes, but then he must be starving.

Of course his mother started to speak the second he sat down.

“Fergus, your new beau is really something”.

Dean put a plate in front of him as Crowley contemplated his answer. He’d rather not openly acknowledge his sexual activities with his son –

“Come on, Gran, we all know that he only screws them once and then throws them back on the street”.

As annoyed as he was, he couldn’t help the hint of satisfaction that filled him at seeing his mother flinch at being addressed as Gran.

Gavin knew she hated that.

Dean cleared his throat to defuse the tension.

“For the record, I do have an apartment. No need to throw me into the streets.”

“That’s good to know” Rowena said smoothly. “A pity we won’t see anymore of you, though”.

“Who knows? There are such things as cell phones” Dean said simply.

To his surprise, Crowley realized he wouldn’t mind if they saw each other again. Last night had been exquisite, and Dean was by no means bad company.

He was also managing rather well; not everyone would have been so comfortable if he found himself having breakfast with his one night stand’s family.

His mother left soon after, and Gavin eventually made his way to his room, even going so far as to say goodbye to Dean, leaving them to clean up.

“I’m really sorry, man” Dean began to apologize as soon as they were alone, “I just meant to make a pot of coffee” – a pot, Crowley noted, he’d wanted to ensure that there’d be enough left for him when he got up “and suddenly Gavin was there. I didn’t know what to say, so I asked him what he wanted for breakfast and he demanded pancakes. Ten minutes later, your mother rang the door bell. He let her in.”

Of course he had. If he’d learned anything about his son in the past few months, Gavin would never pass up a chance to annoy him.

Then he realized that normally, the sound of the door bell would have woken him up. Their activities last night must have relaxed him more than he’d thought.

“Like I said, it’s quite alright”.

He put the plates in the dishwater.

“Thank you for breakfast”.

Dean shrugged.

“My pleasure”.

And there was it, that awkwardness that Dean had undoubtingly been trying to avoid by leaving while he was still asleep.

“Yeah. Well” Dean shuffled his feet.

“See you around, I guess”.

He nodded as he turned around. Then, he decided to do something about this.

“Would you be interested in a repeat of last night eventually?”

Dean turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow.

“That good huh?”

Even better, but he was not about to stroke his ego.

“I am simply suggesting a natural way for us to relax.”

“How nice of you. But to answer your question: yes, I’d be interested in a repeat”.

Huh. Well then.

He could certainly appreciate that Dean was not about to make any of this difficult.

“Alright then. I’ll call you”.

“Or maybe I’ll call you” Dean challenged him, winking.

“Darling, I’m used to making the calls.”

“We’ll see about that” Dean said with a grin before he bid him goodbye.

Maybe, Crowley thought when he heard Gavin turn his music on again, that was exactly what he needed. A simple, no string attached way to blow off steam.

One thing in his life without consequences or complications.


	4. Chapter 4

It was good that Crowley had struck that bargain with Dean because frankly, in the ensuing week he needed to cling to _something_ to keep sane.

Gavin was becoming increasingly morose, and business, while booming, was soul-draining in its repetitiveness.

The one interesting offer he got – and it wasn’t really an offer, wasn’t really anything yet, because the guy knew how to draw out negotiations – came from Dick Roman.

He wasn’t sure what to think about him yet, so he decided to thread with caution.

On Friday evening, he’d had enough. Gavin had just stalked off to his room, and rock music was already emanating throughout the house.

If the boy only had had better taste... maybe they would have had a topic of conversation then.

Like Dean, he suddenly remembered. Dean liked classic rock, he’d told him during dinner: Led Zeppelin, AC/DC and occasionally Bon Jovi.

There would have been absolutely nothing wrong with that, if it had been Gavin’s music of choice.

How odd he’d remember that, too. Normally he forgot about his one night stands for the simple reason that they didn’t matter.

Then again, Dean wasn’t exactly a one night stand... Or wouldn’t be any more soon enough.

In fact, listening to the music still blaring out of Gavin’s room, he made a decision.

 **Are you free tonight?** He texted Dean.

The answer came quickly, he noted, finally pleased with himself again.

_Sure. Want me to come over?_

**Yes**.

He’d never seen a reason to waste words when the meaning was clear.

Dean arrived less than half an hour later. As soon as Crowley opened the door, he frowned.

“Gavin going through a phrase?”

“I sincerely hope it is”.

“Dear God, he’s going to blow his eardrums out, the poor guy”.

“I have been assured this is normal teenage behaviour”.

As he stepped past him into the house, Dean snorted.

“You sound like someone who saw a teenager on TV once”.

“Having children was never part of my life’s ambition”.

“We have to take what we get, I guess”.

Dean listened once more to the music and winced.

“At least Sam’s preferences were a bit calmer when he was moody”.

It was difficult to imagine the no-nonsense lawyer he knew so well as moody, but then Dean had raised him. Crowley found himself wondering how he’d coped, barely and adult himself and saddled with the responsibility of a parent.

Hm. Normally he wasn’t so interested in the lives of the people he slept with. Must be his situation with Gavin, making him compare others’ experiences to his own.

“Anyway, how was your day?”

Dan looked somewhat grim.

“Guy wanted to buy my shop... Just comes in and makes me an offer like he’s the freaking Don and I have to obey. I sent him away. Let’s just say I could do with a distraction”.

He raised an eyebrow.

That, Crowley could arrange.

Yes, he decided later in bed, it had been a good idea indeed to offer Dean their... friends with benefits arrangement. If he could call it that, considered they were more strangers than anything else.

Dean started to get up.

“You can stay the night again, if you want”.

“I just thought... you might not want to risk me running into your kid again”.

“Your pancakes were the first and last meal he actually devoured in a while. It might be a good thing.”

After a pause, Dean asked in the dark, “He’s not eating?”

“Only very little. He’s already lost weight. I can’t explain it, and he doesn’t answer when I ask him questions”.

It felt good to say it out loud. He had no one he could tell about his worries for Gavin. Who was he supposed to? His mother? His employees? He’d always been a lone wolf, and for the first time, he could have used a friend.

Maybe Dean could become one, in time.

How ironic, wondering about being friends after their previous activities.

“Not speaking” Dean said suddenly. “That was my thing after my mother died. Dad said I went mute for six months. All I would do was crawl into Sammy’s crib and hold on to him for dear life”.

They’d been very young, then. From a few allusions of Sam’s over the years, he’d gathered that they had not yet been in their teens, but for the younger brother to still sleep in a crib...

“You were a child”.

“And Gavin isn’t? I remember myself at that age. Convinced the whole world was against me. And now he’s lost his mother. It can’t be easy”.

After a pause he added, “Can’t be a walk in the park for you, either”.

“Me and Lilith...” he hadn’t spoken her name out loud since the custody papers had come through.

He cleared his throat.

“We weren’t even... I wouldn’t have called us lovers. We had a fling, and it was more out of spite than anything else”.

Dean chuckled humourlessly.

“I’ve had such encounters”.

“She never told me she was pregnant. I would have done my duty, of course.”

“Do you love him?” Dean asked out of the blue.

“What?”

“Gavin. Do you love your son? I’m not trying to call you out on anything, by the way. You’ve basically just met, how can you be father and son to each other? And even if you were, it’d still be complicated. Because there’s a lot of versions of love, and God alone knows which one he needs right now”.

There was more than a hint of bitterness in his voice. If Crowley had needed proof that their father’s parenting had been below standard, this would have been it.

Their words hang heavily in the air. Neither of them would find any sleep like that.

He drew into another kiss.

The best they could do was to forget for another few hours.

* * *

 

Again, Dean woke up in Crowley’s bed.

Not a problem in itself, but he probably shouldn’t run into Gavin again.

Which was exactly what happened, of course.

“What are you doing here again?”

“Good morning to you too, Gavin” he said, turning around with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“He never does anyone twice”.

“How do you even know that?” Dean asked carefully.

“Come on. Who’d be able to deal with him for longer than a night anyway?”

“Me, for one” he said lightly. “As you so helpfully pointed out”.

Gavin shot him a glare.

“Look, just let me finish this cup of coffee, and then I’ll be out of your hair – “

“You won’t be making breakfast?”

“I thought you don’t want me in your home”.

Gavin turned away.

“It’s not my home” he spat. “I live in Chicago. _He_ brought me here.”

“He couldn’t very well leave you there on your own”.

“I’m fifteen”.

Dean sighed.

“Look, I know it’s the most cliché of answers, but one day you will look back and realize you’re still a child for now. How about French toast?”

Gavin looked like he wanted to say something else, but nodded.

Alright then.

Cooking he could do.

Cooking was easy.

* * *

 

Dean apparently exhausted him; he’d slept late again.

It was good he’d waited for the weekend before he’d called him.

He was surprised how little surprised he was to find Dean and Gavin in the kitchen once more.

At least his mother hadn’t made an appearance this time.

“French Toast. You want some?” Dean said simply.

“Yes, please”.

“Do you ever wear something else than a suit?” he asked.

“Not really. Why?”

“I have never seen him in anything else” Gavin declared. “I think he sleeps in them”.

“I can assure you that’s not true” Dean said with a grin. Gavin groaned.

“I didn’t need to know that”.

“Then maybe stop forcing him to make your breakfast”.

“I didn’t force him, I merely asked for a favour” Gavin said with an expression that took Crowley by surprise.

Mostly because he’d seen it often enough in a mirror.

In the last few months, while he’d known about their shared genes, he had never considered that yes, Gavin was indeed his son and as such, they should have some things in common.

“Like father, like son” Dean chuckled and he was taken aback. They’d only seen each other three times; surely he couldn’t already know him that well?

“Is good. You should try it” Gavin said with his mouth full, and Crowley wondered if they were finally bonding.

He certainly felt... closer to him than he ever had before at this moment.

What did it say about them that they apparently only felt comfortable in the company of someone who was clearly a stranger?

But then...

Dean didn’t feel like a stranger.

It was all bloody confusing. Crowley normally preferred his own company to others, and yet that didn’t seem to count when it came to Dean Winchester.

He’d never really minded Sam either. Maybe it ran in the family.

“You’re supposed to be eating, not staring at your food” Dean said.

“That what your mother used to tell you when you were a kid?” Gavin asked.

Dean’s shoulders stiffened and Crowley fought down the strange urge to take his hand. What was the matter with him today?

“Nah. She wasn’t around for that”.

“I’m sorry”.

Gavin certainly behaved well around Dean.

Much better than he had around Crowley from the first moment they’d met.

He probably shouldn’t have asked for that paternity test in front of him, all things considered.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago”.

Dean didn’t mention Lilith; for a second, Crowley was confused, since he was exactly the type of man he’d have assumed to try and comfort Gavin any chance he gor, then he saw the quick look he bestowed on him.

Oh. Dean didn’t want to damage their relationship by making it look like he and Crowley had talked about him behind Gavin’s back.

It was a strangely heart-warming thought.

Really, what _was_ wrong with him today? Now he suddenly considered things heart-warming?

He’d repeatedly been told that he didn’t have a heart, especially by his mother who could be considered an expert on the subject since he had suspected she lacked one herself for quite some time.

Naturally, the French toast was delicious. Dean might have missed his calling when he went into restoration instead of attending culinary school.

“You’re a much better cook than him”.

He winced and wondered if Gavin would ever accept that he was his father and calling him such. On the other hand, he had no idea if he wanted him to call him Dad. Most likely, it would feel weird.

“I’m sure he’s perfectly adequate”.

Dean winked at him.

A peacemaker, Crowley realized. That was what Dean was. He deflected any dangerous comments with a joke and a smile, ensuring everyone stayed relaxed.

It was the very opposite of what his mother preferred to do in these situations.

“So you like punk rock?” Dean asked Gavin.

He nodded.

“Can’t say I’m a fan myself, but hey, whatever you like. I’m into the classics myself; Led Zeppelin, CCR, the works.”

Gavin launched into a monologue about seemingly every punk band on earth, from the Sex Pistols to something called Dead Kennedys (seriously?) and Crowley was left to stare at the man who’d got his son to share information willingly within minutes when he’d tried to get him to open his mouth in his presence for months.

Crowley prided himself on being an excellent negotiator and deal maker; however, when it came to Gavin, he’d got nowhere.

Maybe Dean was just better with children than he could ever hope to be. He simply wasn’t cut out to be around them.

Dean Winchester would make an excellent father one day, he was sure, no matter who he would see fit to share his life with.

He wondered why that thought made him feel so hollow.

“You do know your punk bands, I’ll give you that” Dean announced, “But have you even _given_ AC/DC a chance...”

“Come on, they’re old – “

“And the Deadly Kennedys aren’t?”

And with such actually friendly bantering, the breakfast continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. Crowley is that gone on Dean already, our poor baby just doesn't know it yet.


	5. Chapter 5

“Thank you“ he said honestly as he accompanied Dean to the door after breakfast. “This is the most he’s eaten all week”.

“Crowley...” Dean said slowly. “This is not me telling you how to deal with your son, but you’ve got a good boy in there and I just want to make sure he’s alright...”

He trailed off and Crowley encouraged him with a nod to keep talking.

“If this continues, he should see someone. Someone professional, I mean.”

“You think it would help?”

Dean shrugged.

“I’ve never tried it, but hey, maybe it would have”.

A self-deprecatory smile followed.

Crowley had noticed that Dean tended to heap blame on himself or sell his own accomplishments short in conversations. That hardly surprised him; he’d known many men and women whose upbringing had left them with little to no self-worth.

What shocked him was just how angry he was that Dean had to be one of them.

If John Winchester had still been alive, he might have been tempted to give him a piece of his mind. Or worse.

“I will look into therapists specializing in teenagers” he decided. It might be for Gavin’s best, and it couldn’t hurt to try.

Dean nodded.

“He deserves that chance.”

They looked at one another.

Dean cleared his throat.

“Well, I’ll be off”.

“I’ll call you?”

“You do that, handsome” he replied with a grin.

Crowley moved towards him, and only after the door had closed behind him did he realize he’d almost kissed Dean Goodbye.

Really, what was the matter with him today?

To his surprise, Gavin was doing the dishes in the kitchen.

“You didn’t have to do that; we have a dishwasher for a reason.”

“I wanted to”.

Fair enough.

He went to help him, drying the dishes his son handed him.

Maybe he could bring up therapy eventually.

“He’s got a point” Gavin said suddenly.

“Why do you always wear suits?”

He hadn’t expected the question.

“I...”

He didn’t really have an answer. In his line of work, wearing suits was simply the norm; and he’d always seen little reason to change when he came home.

Dean seemed to think his suits... suited him, too.

“I just do”.

“But why? Wouldn’t a t-shirt be more comfortable?”

Crowley realized he couldn’t even remember when he’d last worn a t-shirt. Maybe as a teenager at college? But then, he’d always dressed impeccably...

“Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious. Don’t worry, if you don’t want me to ask, I’ll stop. Mom didn’t like me asking questions about... anything, really”.

He remembered Lilith being rather... strong-willed and opinionated.

And Gavin sounded remarkably bitter, talking about her. In fact, he’d barely mentioned her since he’d moved in.

Was that supposed to be normal during the grieving process? Denial or whatever they called it? Crowley had never paid much attention to psychology, apart from how to convince people to do something for him.

Was Gavin even supposed to want to talk about Lilith?

Crowley had been right; he was definitely not cut out to be father material.

Lilith, for better or worse, had at least raised him.

And she couldn’t have been a worse mother than his own.

“I don’t mind questions”.

Only inquiring minds went far, after all.

“You don’t answer them”.

“There is no answer for “Why do you wear suits?””.

“Yes there is. You could have said you liked wearing them”.

That was true.

Smart little jerk.

Yes, they were related.

“What do you do for fun, anyway? You never mentioned any hobbies”.

Because you always disappeared into your room, he wanted to say, but held his tongue.

“I read”.

“Already noticed there’s no TV in the living room”.

You could have just asked.

Again, he didn’t voice his first thought. Dean knew what it was like to be young and lose a parent, and he seemed of the opinion that they should be kind to Gavin.

He didn’t pause and wonder why it was important to him what Dean was thinking until much later.

“That’s all? You just... read and drink Craig?”

“I have never felt the need to surround myself with other people”.

When Gavin didn’t answer immediately, he feared that he’d misunderstood him.

He was about to clarify that of course he had taken him in willingly, but just as he opened his mouth, Gavin said, “I get that”.

Again that bitter tone. Surely at fifteen he shouldn’t be that anti-social? Or was that part of being a teenager? Crowley had spent his teenage years working to get away from his mother to college as soon as possible. It might not have been the healthiest of goals, but it had worked out fine for him.

“Dean’s nice though. I like him”.

Well, there was a surprise. His son liked his not-one-night-stand more than him.

 Then again, he supposed most people would. Even Rowena had seemed to like Dean.

He had just something... something that drew people in. Maybe it was his eyes, or his smile, or his kindness...

He shook his head. This was getting ridiculous.

Must be because he hadn’t got laid in a while before this. Well, he had a remedy for that now, and a handsome remedy to boot.

“He is” he agreed.

“Makes me wonder what he wants with you”.

He was about to snap at him until he realized Gavin was teasing him.

There was more than amusement in his eyes, however.

There was fear there, too.

Oh God. Maybe Lilith hadn’t been a better mother than Rowena at all.

“Ask him, he might tell you all about my positive sides”.

Gavin shuddered.

“Thank you, I really didn’t need to know that”.

“I can be charming, you know”.

“That’s not what Mom said” he mumbled, looking down at the fork he was cleaning.

That peaked Crowley’s interest. If he could find out what Lilith had told Gavin about him, maybe they could start to build something like a functioning relationship.

“What did she tell you about me?”

“When I asked...” he trailed off and looked away.

She hadn’t liked questions. It must have been brave of him to ask about his father to begin with.

Crowley wondered if he should touch him, if it would bring him any comfort.

He couldn’t remember whether his mother had ever given him a hug, and he highly doubted it would have helped at any time, but maybe Gavin was different...

““Bastard” was the nicest word she came up with. Said we had quite a bit in common”.

Small wonder he sounded so disillusioned. Was that how he had grown up? Having insults thrown his way?

Crowley knew that feeling-

“I don’t know about you, but “bastard” suits me just fine”.

Bastards got the job done, at least. Yes, he’d ruined many careers and gone after a lot of people to get what he wanted, but now he had a booming business, a big house, and all the privacy he needed.

Except for his mother storming in now and then, he’d been rather content before he’d been informed of Lilith’s death.

 And now...

Twenty-four hours ago he would have been convinced that he and his son would spend their days making each other miserable until he went to college and their contact dwindled down to Christmas cards, if they could even be bothered to buy any.

Now, as Gavin laughed, he wasn’t so sure.

He’d never heard him laugh before.

Maybe this could turn out well after all.

“You should learn how to lock a door Fergus, how many times do I have to tell you?”

Or not.

He sighed as they turned around.

“Hello, Mother”.

“I see three plates – did you have a guest over? A bit early in the day for it, isn’t it?”

He suppressed the urge to snarl at her; Gavin had just seemed to think him nicer than he did before, and he didn’t want to damage his (admittedly wrong) perception.

“Dean was here” Gavin piped in, for once not sounding like he wanted to strangle everyone in the room.

“My, my, a second time? I can hear the wedding bells already”.

“What do you want, mother?”

He was perfectly aware she hated both him and his son. Which meant she’d woken up in a bad mood and decided to torture them with her presence to feel better.

“I just wanted to spend time with my two favourite people”.

“You don’t like anyone” Gavin pointed out.

Crowley couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope as Rowena’s smile froze.

They might end up liking each other after all, he and this son he hadn’t known.

* * *

 

That had gone... surprisingly well, Dean reflected. Gavin wasn’t a bad boy; he was actually pretty shy and unsure when it came down to it.

Yes, he had demanded breakfast, but he must have been hungry, and Crowley was definitely right about him not eating enough. He was a bit on the thin side.

Dean was pretty sure Crowley considered their situation homeless, something to be borne until it was over, but he didn’t agree. In some ways – how they spoke and moved sometimes – he and Gavin were surprisingly similar, and he’d seen hope there on the table.

They could work it out if they wanted.

They just needed a little nudge, that was all.

 _Dean, you’re going into full-on mother mode again_ , the annoying voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Sam said.

He couldn’t help it. Motherless children were basically his kryptonite, and he liked Crowley well, too.

Not like _that_ , of course. He’d never make the mistake to fall for a friend with benefits.

He was simply not ready for another try at a relationship so the situation was perfect for him.

Everything would turn out fine.

Dean spent his weekend how he usually did – playing video games with Charlie, hanging out in Benny’s diner, having dinner with Sam and Sarah.

He was surprised when he got a text on Saturday evening.

**Based on my mother, I am afraid I cannot empathize with either you or Gavin.**

Crowley had not struck him as the type to send small updates about his day, but he did sound pretty fed-up, so that may have been the reason.

Everyone needed to vent now and then.

_Oh dear, she show up out of the blue again?_

**Yes indeed. Shortly after you left. Count yourself lucky.**

_I am. How did Gavin take it?_

**I am not sure our mutual disdain could be called “bonding” but I guess we were both annoyed at her presence.**

Dean chuckled. In a strange way, Crowley was cute when he complained.

“Who are you texting?” Sam, who’d gone to fetch them two more beers from the fridge, asked.

“A friend”.

“Ah”.

“What?” he asked, accepting the bottle.

“Nothing. Just ah”.

“No, you want to say something”.

“It’s just been a while since I saw you smile the way you did when you got that text, is all”.

“What way?”

“As if you’re glad the writer got in touch with you. You sure you’ve got nothing to tell me?”

 _I’m screwing the business consultant you always tell me about and I’m pretty sure you don’t particularly like or even trust him_ didn’t have the best ring to it.

But then, it was just a friends with benefits thing, nothing worth worrying Sammy over.

“I will if I do”.

“Alright, big brother”.

After a moment, he added, “I just want to see you happy”.

“I am, Sam, alright? I promise”.

He had his brother, a job he loved, great friends, and was sure of good sex when he wanted in the immediate future.

What else could he ask for?

* * *

 

Texting Dean had been an ingenious idea. Instead of taking his frustration out on Gavin and alienating him further – his mother had seen it fit to spend the whole day with them, and again, his son had barely eaten anything – he actually found himself smiling as he knocked on his door.

To his surprise, he actually called out, “Come in!”

Gavin’s room was a mess, but as far as he knew, that was normal. He was lying on his bed and reading a comic book.

“I know my mother’s enough for anyone to lose their appetite, but I would feel better if you ate something. Do you want me to make you a sandwich?”

He looked like he wanted to protest, but then he nodded.

“Alright”.

Before he could think about it, he stepped up to him and ruffled his hair before leaving for the kitchen.


	6. Chapter 6

There was absolutely no reason to text Dean on Monday, except that he was in a meeting and it was one of the most boring ones he’d ever had the misfortune to attend.

**I am surrounded by idiots. Kill me.**

He was strangely pleased when Dean answered immediately.

_Killing you would go against my purpose, I am afraid._

**Save me then? Fake an emergency?**

He was taken aback by his own text. One of the adjectives he’d never have used to describe himself would undoubtedly have been playful, but here he was.

_I don’t know if I can just barge in and scream “Your car is sick”. Don’t think I’d be dramatic enough to save you. Sorry, your Highness, looks like you’ll have to listen to the ramblings of your minions some more._

**You don’t know what I’m capable of.**

_On the contrary, I’m probably the only one who does._

**Don’t flatter yourself, I didn’t wait for you.**

_And here I thought Gavin was brought by a stork. My bad. How is he, by the way?_

He hesitated before answering. None of his other one night stands had ever asked such personal questions; but then Dean wasn’t a one night stand anymore.

On the other hand, Lilith had certainly never asked questions. But since she hadn’t liked them, as Gavin had explained...

**He ate breakfast today.**

_Good. Kid needs some meat on his bones._

Then, another text.

_Would like to have one of your breakfasts too, one of these days ;)._

Hm. That could easily be arranged.

**Wait and see, Squirrel. Wait and see.**

_Squirrel? Where did that come from?_

**Have you seen how tall your brother is? He’s definitely the moose.**

_The – did you just – why do I even hang out with you._

**I think we both know why.**

_Can’t argue with that. Sorry, gotta go; cars won’t repair themselves, and Charlie is shooting me winks. Talk to you soon._

Who was Charlie? He found himself wondering. Then again, it wasn’t like he’d ever asked about Dean’s colleagues...

He put his phone away and forced himself to concentrate on the meeting.

* * *

 

Dean grinned as he concentrated back on the motor.

“Alright. I’ll bite. Who is it? The cutie who called here just to ask you out?”

“What do you mean?”

Sam asking about his texts was one thing. Married lawyer or not, he was still his little brother and bound to annoy him.

Charlie on the other hand...

“Means it’s been a while since you were so distracted by your phone you forgot about work. Not since...”

She trailed off.

“Yeah, there’s no chance of that”.

Even if by some strange cruel twist of fate he would ever develop serious feelings for Crowley (and this was just a bit of fun, really) there was no way it would ever become serious.

“And why not?”

“Even if I wanted to, they’re out of my league”.

It was futile to play the pronoun game since Charlie obviously knew they were talking about Crowley, but Dean didn’t care. Deniability was everything.

She frowned.

“Dean...”

“Come on. You should see their house. They only have the best of the best. And there’s me...”

He suddenly wondered what Crowley’s neighbours had thought when he’d shown up in front of his door in Baby. Probably nothing good.

Then again, maybe the neighbourhood was posh enough that they didn’t bother looking what the others were doing. Such had to exist, right?

“Hey” Charlie said firmly. “You listen to me, Dean Winchester. Anybody would be lucky to have you, I don’t care if they’re Iron Man or the Queen of Saba. Got it?”

“Thank you my Queen”.

“Just looking out for my favourite handmaiden, as always.”

He smiled as Charlie left him to do his job.

Sometimes he didn’t know what he’d do without her.

* * *

 

“Sir, your meeting with Dick Roman is set for ten o’ clock”.

Crowley frowned as he looked up at Simmons. He didn’t like the woman, and he was rather sure hse despised him.

All in all, they had as healthy a work relationship as he could ever hope to achieve.

“I do remember, thank you”.

She pursed her lips and left.

Maybe this time Dick Roman could actually get to the point.

During their last two brief meetings, he’d been as sleazy as business partners could get. Crowley normally preferred a bit more class when making deals, but if there was good money in it... After all, he had a child to bring through college now.

Not that Gavin would land in an Ivy League institution if he kept doing things his way, which was preferably not doing them at all.

At exactly ten o’ clock, not one minute sooner or later, Dick Roman strolled into his office, as self-assured and controlled as ever.

“Mr. Crowley”.

For some reason, he just couldn’t put his finger on as to why he rubbed him the wrong way. And he’d been dealing with bastards for decades now.

“Mr. Roman.”

“Dick, please”.

With pleasure.

He suppressed a smile imaging telling Dean about the meeting later on.

He didn’t return the favour. He wouldn’t even have liked Dean to call him Fergus, so why should “Dick”?

“I have a proposal for you”.

“I understood that quite some time ago, Dick. Would you be so kind as to come to the specifics?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Impatient?”

“Just not keen on wasting my time”.

“I can respect that. Now, I do understand you’re one of the most respected consulting firms in the state.”

Flattery will get you nowhere, darling, he thought. He knew his own worth, and if Dick thought this would lead to success...

“I was wondering if you’d be interested in... branching out”.

“Branching out?”

“Yes. We both know domination can only be achieved quietly. And you’ve certainly taken down any other major business competition for years now without anyone being the wiser for it”.

He had brains, Crowley would admit that.

“So?”

“So I have plans to branch out right here in Kansas. I already have shops in three states, and in every single one, I’m the market leader now; and my... investors have always profited.”

“Investors, I see”.

So it was money he was after. Well, if his business model did work...

“No pressure, Mr. Crowley. I’ll just send you a proposal and you tell me what you think of it, alright?”

It wouldn’t hurt to look.

“I’d be my pleasure, Dick”.

Once he was gone, Crowley, unable to fight the impulse, washed his hands.

What a slimy bastard.

His phone rang.

To his surprise, it was Gavin.

He’d never called him before, and he picked up with the expectation that he’d at least set the school on fire and he’d have to pick him up.

“Hello?”

“Can we have pizza for dinner tonight? We’re having it at lunch right now and it’s so gross, I have to remind myself what a good one tastes like”.

He blinked.

“Of course”.

“Cool, thanks!”

And with that, he hung up.

Was that a good sign? Randomly calling him probably was, but then maybe he’d just wanted to see if he would give in to his demand –

Give in to your demand, get a grip, Crowley, he’s a kid, not one of the douche bags you work with.

His inner voice sounded quite like Dean. He chuckled.

Seeing it as a good thing it was then.

Only things were never as easy as they seemed.

True, Gavin was in a good mood when Crowley returned home and even offered the information that he’d done his homework; but over the course of their meal (four slices, Crowley noted with satisfaction; quite enough for a growing boy since they’d been rather big) a thunder storm broke out and he became... twitchy.

Crowley had seen many men sweat in the course of his life.

But this? This was fully-grown panic.

He couldn’t understand. Of course he knew about anxiety disorders, but Gavin had never mentioned a fear of thunder storms...

Another thing he’d never asked.

Finally, after they’d finished, Gavin all but raced to his room; Crowley, unsure what to do, sat there and stared at the chair he’d just occupied.

Oh, screw it all. He had no experience with children, he might as well ask for help.

He called Dean.

“Hey Crowley, what’s up?”

They’d only talked on weekends so far.

“It’s about Gavin.”

“Shoot. He alright?”

“I don’t know” he replied honestly. “The thunder storm...”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, that’s a storm alright. I’m at Sammy’s, looks like I’ll spend the night. He afraid?”

“Something like it. He just hid in his room. Should I go talk to him, do you think?”

Dean was silent.

Then, he slowly said, “I can only speak from my own experience. But when you’re that angry, and lonely, and suddenly scared... yes, it feels good if someone comes to look after you.”

“I will. Thank you, Dean.”

“No problem. Go and be father of the year”.

“I highly doubt that.”

“There’s still time”.

He didn’t think he’d really make any progress, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

And at least he was in a better mood after talking to Dean.

Gavin was rolled up to a ball in his bed, his duvet pulled over him.

“Gavin?”

“Go ‘way”.

“Not until I’m sure you’re alright, which I don’t think you are at present”.

When he didn’t answer, he asked, “What’s wrong? Is it the storm?”

“No”.

He waited.

“You’re still there, aren’t you”.

“You didn’t hear me walk away, and you’re not that stupid”.

“Thanks very much”.

He sat down on the bed next to his son.

Then –

“She got weird during thunder storms”.

He didn’t have to ask who she was.

“She just – she kept praying, she never told me to who, but to her “dark prince” or whatever – I usually tried to get away, but if I didn’t – “

Even under the blanket, he was shivering.

“And now, when the storm broke, I thought that maybe – that you might – “

“I’m a bastard, but not that much of one.”

A tearful chuckle.

“Gavin...”

“It’s okay. It’s my crap, and I have to deal with it”.

“Not on your own.”

“Says who?”

“Someone who might not have been exactly where you are, but close enough”.

“Knew Gran was a bitch”.

“You are an astute observer”.

Another chuckle, this one sounding at least a little less sad.

“I’ll just stay here a while, alright? No reason to talk”.

And so they spent the thunder storm next to each other, father and son, keeping silent company.  

* * *

Thunder storms... Dean bit his lip as he looked out the window. Yeah, sure, if you were scared of thunder storms it wasn’t a good night for you.

At least Dad hadn’t left him with any scar of that kind. He’d got drunk at all kinds of days.

“Dean?” Sam asked gently. “When you’re looking like that, you’re usually thinking of – “

“Yeah, yeah, just a memory. It happens.”

At least he’d been alone in the living room when Crowley had called. Sam didn’t have to know.

“So you’re okay.”

“Yeah, Sammy, I promise”.

He smiled.

He really was pretty happy, these days.

He was even starting to think he and Crowley might end up as friends even after their arrangement was over.

Things were looking good.

* * *

A few days later, Dick’s offer landed on Crowley’s desk.

Huh. So it was a mechanic’s shop he wanted to open.

Just as well. He could always ask Dean if the idea was a good one.

First of all though, he needed more information on Roman.

HE called Simmons. She wouldn’t like doing it, but she would find everything there was to find.

Gavin had been feeling down since the storm, but at least he was eating – not quite enough to satisfy Crowley, but more than before.

Now, though, the weekend loomed in front of them, and it was then that they’d had their biggest fights until now.

He bit his lip.

A few minutes later, he sent Dean a text.

**Care to come over for dinner on Saturday?**


	7. Chapter 7

After that night, Crowley had come to the conclusion that Dean’s advice to find Gavin a therapist was sound indeed; now he only had to hope that he could forward it without being immediately rejected by his son.

He didn’t want to ask him in front of Dean; it would only look like they’d ganged up on him, and Crowley was coming to understand that if Gavin didn’t like something, it was feeling trapped.

So it was on Saturday during breakfast (Gavin had no appetite, but he had come down of his own free will) that he asked, tentatively, “Have you ever considered talking to someone?”

“I am talking to you. If I want to”.

Crowley once more cursed his inexperience with children. It had just never seemed important that he learn how to talk to them.

“That’s not what I meant. I meant a – “

“A shrink? You think I’m crazy?”

He should have expected the hostility.

“I think you are not, which is exactly why I think you should see a therapist”.

“How does this not mean you think – “

“It means I believe you, I believe everything you’ve told me, and no one should have to go through this alone”.

“So you got a therapist because of Gran?”

“No, and this is why I am the way you see me. You consider that a good thing?”

Gavin snorted.

“You’re not that bad”.

“Thinking of what you told me, and that since you’ve been here you’ve been in close contact with my mother, I don’t think that’s a compliment”.

“Please. I see normal people at school all the time”.

He looked down at his plate.

“They don’t really talk to me”.

“You’re new. I’m sure – “

“Nah. I’m the freak who didn’t even know who his father was before coming here”.

“How do they – “

“They’re teenagers. The second you have a weakness...”

Suddenly, he didn’t sound so young anymore.

After a sigh, he said, “Alright. I’ll think about it. But I make no promises.“

“I don’t expect any”.

Personally, Crowley hoped he would choose to try therapy. He didn’t want Gavin to be scared every time there was a thunder storm.

He’d spent almost the whole night thinking about what he’d told him, not leaving his side even after he’d fallen asleep, and he had a kink in his neck to prove it.

Lilith had never struck him as particularly religious, but then talking had never been their priority when they were together.

Unlike with Dean, they’d hardly have found the ground for an interesting conversation if they’d tried.

But maybe, he’d thought there in the dark, listening to Gavin’s breathing, if he’d paid a bit more attention, he might have noticed she had... problems. And if he’d stayed in touch with her, he could hardly have failed to notice that she’d been pregnant. Maybe everything would have turned out differently. Maybe he would have taken in Gavin as a baby, maybe he’d actually have done a decent job raising him, maybe this could all have been avoided.

He’d drifted in and out of a light doze. Small wonder he was tired, aside from his aching neck; no matter what he’d done in the past few necks, it hadn’t got better.

Oh well. At least he had dinner to look forward to; Dean had answered him this morning that he’d “love to come over”.

Why that put him in such a good mood, he couldn’t say.

“So what are we having for dinner tonight?” Gavin asked.

He’d not even thought of that yet.

“Dean like burgers?”

He was starting to suspect that he should have objected to some of Gavin’s wishes for dinner. Wasn’t he supposed to make sure he ate a balanced diet?

Crowley himself had certainly always looked after his own nutritional needs... mostly so that he’d get to outlive his mother.

“Yes, he does” he said, remembering their first date when they’d talked about their favourite dishes. There’d been something boyishly charming about the grown man who’d admitted that despite his better knowledge, he’d eat a burger a day if he could.

“Can you stop it with the sappy look?”

“I wasn’t looking sappy”.

“Sure you weren’t” Gavin grumbled, but he looked decidedly better than he had last night.

Dean arrived on their doorstep with a smile on his face and a good bottle of wine in his hands.

“Thought you preferred beer”.

“Yes, but I know you’re high maintenance” he said with a wink.

“He’s speaking for himself” Gavin piped up.

“You’re not touching anything like this for at least six more years, young man”.

He pouted.

Dean laughed.

“Sorry, man, I have a little brother; your puppy dog eyes won’t do it for me”.

It was rather difficult to imagine Sam trying to convince anyone using puppy dog eyes, but he had to have been smaller than now.

“I see” Crowley drawled. “So that’s out of the question for me, too?”

Dean shot him a look he couldn’t read.

This, he decided over the course of their meal, was... pleasant, for lack of a better word.

Dean was keeping the conversation light; he... made things easier just by being around.

He’d never felt that way around anyone.

The word jolted him.

 _Felt_.

He wasn’t – this wasn’t –

He wasn’t developing feelings for Dean, surely? He’d never been in love before, and he had no intention of getting to know what it was like.

No, love had never featured in his life plan, just like children.

Well...

He glanced at Gavin.

Some things couldn’t be helped, but he’d always been careful to keep his feelings in check. He was in control.

He was in no danger of falling in love with Dean Winchester.

Gavin retired rather early for a Saturday night, clearly still exhausted from yesterday.

“Goodnight, guys. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Isn’t that amazing, Crowley, we have the permission to blast our favourite music all through the house”.

He smiled then yawned. Tiredness was slowly creeping up on him after the week he’d had – a shame, since Dean looked particularly edible today – and his neck didn’t feel much better.

“Neck’s hurting you?” Dean asked as soon as Gavin had gone up to his room.

When he looked surprised, he scoffed.

“Come on, I bend over cars for a living. You really thought I couldn’t tell?”

So he told him more about that night.

“Poor Gavin. That sounds awful”.

“I had no idea she had such... episodes” he said.

“Hey, don’t start beating yourself up over it. You had no idea he even existed”.

“I should have.”

“How?”

“I don’t know” he admitted.

“There it is”.

Dean patted his shoulder.

“Thing about guilt is, it can be irrational as hell.”

He knew he was right, of course. He nodded as he moved to look at him and winced.

“Alright, someone needs a neck massage”.

“You don’t have to...” he protested weakly.

“You’re in pain, and I can help. I’m not about to let you suffer”.

Really, he reflected as he took off his tie so Dean had access to his neck, it was a good thing he never fell in love.

He could easily see people falling for Dean left and right.

He sighed and closed his eyes when he started to work on the knots in his neck.

“Comfortable?”

“You have no idea how good this feels” he said honestly.

“Man, you really must be exhausted” Dean mused.

He didn’t answer.

He only realized how tired he was when Dean shook his shoulder. He could have sworn no time had passed.

“Come on sleepyhead, off to bed”.

“I can take care of myself” he mumbled even as Dean half-dragged him to his bedroom.

“Sure you can”.

He wasn’t quite sure how he’d got undressed, but as Dean bustled about in his bedroom, he managed to mumble “Stay” before he drifted off.

It was the first time he woke up before Dean.

So he had stayed just because he’d asked him to. And he didn’t even know why he had.

Dean looked beautiful in the morning light. And yet... there was a crease between his eyebrows, a touch of worry in his peaceful expression Crowley didn’t really like.

At least this time he could repay him for making breakfast.

As he reached for a suit to wear, he hesitated.

Gavin was right after all; he really didn’t need to wear a suit today. And he did owe a few pairs of jeans, and some t-shirts, if he remembered correctly.

All from Armani, of course.

The house was still and calm as he walked down the stairs.

He hoped Gavin had spent as well a night as he had. The pain from his neck was gone. Dean was really good with his hands.

In more ways than one.

Dean came into the kitchen just as the coffee was done.

“You didn’t have to do that”.

“It’s my house” he reminded him. “I’m the one who should”.

Dean shrugged and accepted the offered mug (why had he remembered how he took his coffee again?)

“Thanks anyway. Gavin still sleeping?”

“I’m hoping he’ll rest some more”.

Dean rubbed his eyes and sat down.

“So, about that storm...”

Crowley sighed.

“It got personal. He told me some things about his mother”.

“So was she...” Dean trailed off. “Forget it. It’s none of my business”.

“Abusive? I think you could call it that”.

He grimaced.

“The good news is he has promised me that he’ll think about going to see a therapist”.

Dean nodded.

“Only way it’ll do any good is if he wants to.”

“I’m aware. I still hope he’ll decide to try, however.”

“Can’t blame you. This must be hard on you both”.

“At least we have something in common now” he said lightly. “Did I tell you about the time my mother wanted to trade me for three pigs?”

“Really?” Dean’s eyes widened.

“In her defence, it was the Sixties and she was high”.

Dean snorted.

“Hell of an excuse. At least my father wanted me around. Someone had to pick up the bottles.”

He shook his head.

“How did we ever become functioning adults?”

“A riddle for the ages” he said, pretending the thought didn’t sooth his worries as much it did.

If they had turned out well, Gavin had all the time in the world to do it too.

He was actually worried about him, he realized to his surprise.

He hadn’t expected that when he took him in.

“Any chance the pig trader is coming over?” Dean asked.

“Oh no, I don’t think so. She might have enjoyed annoying us, but she actually hates being in our presence, so...”

Dean nodded.

Their time alone was interrupted half an hour later when Gavin exclaimed, “You have normal clothes too!?”

“Good morning” Dean said. “I wouldn’t call those normal. That’s Armani”.

“I’m just trying to keep things classy”.

“Yeah, sure, you snob” Dean teased him.

Gavin laughed.

Crowley turned around to check on their breakfast.

It had suddenly occurred to him that he probably shouldn’t allow Gavin to grow close to Dean. After all, their affiliation had an expiration date, and he didn’t want him to be hurt when he stopped seeing Dean.

On the other hand...

He’d like to keep Dean as a friend. And if that meant they could still now and then engage in sexual intercourse...

After all, they were both single men, attracted to one another, and there was no harm in what they were doing. Dean certainly wouldn’t stop seeing Gavin just because he’d eventually find someone to be with.

Even if the thought of him settling down hurt Crowley’s ego. Yes. That was what it had to be. One didn’t suddenly start falling in love past the age of fifty.

With that assuring thought, he finished making their breakfast. Dean and Gavin were discussing punk rock again.

All in all, it felt very... domestic.

Dean left soon after breakfast, unexpectedly drawing him into a hug at the door.

The next few days past quietly. He and Dean texted each other, Gavin seemed more relaxed than before.

He should have known it couldn’t stay that way.

But how was he supposed to have foreseen a thunder storm on Wednesday morning?


	8. Chapter 8

He was in another meeting with Dick Roman. Simmons had done her work in the meantime; Crowley now knew that he not only was intent to built up a monopole in every state, but that he was careful it would be in a different line each time – a simple but ingenious method to avoid detection.

It seemed that he was bound on creating a chain of mechanic shops in Kansas.

The proposal in itself was perfectly satisfactory, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was _something_ , right at the back of his mind, telling him it wasn’t a good idea –

His phone rang. Normally he would have ignored it, but the caller ID told him it was his son.

Crowley was well aware that Dick would consider his picking up a weakness, that allowing himself to be distracted during this meeting could make it seem like he was doing him a favour by dealing with him, but... it was Gavin.

“I’m sorry” he decided, “my son. I have to...”

“Of course, Mr. Crowley. I understand you haven’t known each other long”.

One of the reasons to decline he could think of was that he’d much rather send the annoying prick right back to the hell hole he’d crawled out of.

“Gavin, I’m in – “

“There’s a thunder storm” he all but whispers, “I’m not feeling so well. I’m at the nurses’ station...”

Crowley turned to look at the window. As always, he’d been concentrating on his work, barely aware of the weather.

It was indeed thundering.

Oh God. If Gavin had had a panic attack at school...

He felt Dick watching him with shrewd eyes.

If he were to leave now...

Even Simmons couldn’t tell how many contacts he already had in the city. Or the state.

“It’s bad timing. I can probably...”

“It’s okay. I’ll just go back to class”.

There was more than resignation in his voice; it was almost as if he was laughing at himself, about the fact that he’d allowed himself to believe anyone would care.

“I’ll find a way” he said abruptly. He could have sent a car of course, but Gavin needed someone he was close to right now... or as close as he could get, anyway.

“Either me or Dean will be there soon”.

What the hell? He had definitely not meant to say that”.

“Thank you” Gavin sniffed, sounding surprised.

They hung up.

“Mr. Crowley, do you have to leave? How unfortunate. And just when it got interesting...”

He grit his teeth. If he left now, Dick would probably tell every potential client out of principle.

Even though he knew what he’d told Gavin had been a bout of temporal madness, he dialled Dean’s number.

“Crowley”.

He sounded surprised.

“Dean...” he trailed off. “there’s a thunder storm” he continued stupidly.

Dean cursed.

“I completely forgot... Is Gavin alright?”

“Not really; he just called me, he’s in the nurse’s office, and I can’t leave...”

“I’ll pick him up” Dean said immediately. “No problem. That’s one of the plusses when you’re the boss”.

“I can’t say I agree”.

“Because you’re actually important” Dean teased him. “He goes to Lawrence High, right?”

“Yes”.

He’d considered sending him to private school, but Gavin had thrown a fit when he’d mentioned it – probably because Lilith had always insisted he attended one – and so he’d ended up in public school.

“I assume he’s got keys to your place?”

“Of course. I can’t thank you enough”.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. We’ll get the poor little guy sorted out”.

He hung up, obviously intent on getting to Gavin as quickly as possible.

“So your lucky guy’s called Dean, hm? Must be nice to have someone who accepts your kid and all that.”

He could have corrected him, but what for?

“It is. Now, shall we return to the topic at hand?”

* * *

To say Dean was surprised at Crowley asking him to pick up Gavin would have been an understatement.

He did get along quite well with him, but...

No buts. The boy needed help, and Dean was happy to.

He told Charlie.

“Just let Andy take a look at the Convertible, alright?”

“Sure. Hope he’s alright”.

He nodded and went to his car.

It wasn’t difficult to locate the nurse’s room. Thank God he’d gone for a somewhat normal looking t-shirt today; if he’d shown up in his Led Zeppelin gear and asked to take a boy with him, people might have wondered.

“Dean!” Gavin piped up the minute he opened the door.

The nurse frowned. He gave her a reassuring smile.

“Hello. My name’s Dean Winchester. I’m here for Gavin; his father called me. I’m – “

He would have found it difficult to explain in what position he was there exactly if Gavin hadn’t piped up with, “He’s my father’s boyfriend. I’ve known him for a while.”

“He couldn’t get away from work” he explained, apologetically. Trying to make her understand their true situation might have ended with him not being allowed to take Gavin home at all.

“That’s alright, then. He’s doing well; he just had a little trouble handling the storm”.

“It was a big one”.

She nodded.

“I think he just needs to rest”.

By the time they got out of the school, Gavin’s face was scarlet.

“You okay, buddy?”

“Sure” he said, somewhat shakily.

Dean waited. Gavin didn’t know Crowley had told him about his problem, and now was not a good time to bring it up.

“I – I didn’t mean to. I just... have problems. Sometimes. That’s understandable, right?”

He suddenly realized he was worried.

“Of course it is. Don’t worry, no one’s mad at you. Your father would hardly have called me to get you if he were, wouldn’t he?”

He nodded, sniffling.

Man, his mother really must have done a number on him.

“We’ll just get you home. I know it sounds stupid, but everything will look better tomorrow. I could make you some tomato rice soup. My mother...” he trailed off.

“It’s alright. You can talk about her. Just ‘cause Mom was awful doesn’t mean you have to pretend good moms don’t exist.”

And Dean understood he just wanted someone to fill the silence.

So during the drive home, he told him about Mary Winchester, about a love so easily given, tomato rice soup when he was cold, a kiss on his forehead before he went to sleep.

He wasn’t sure Gavin was listening, but it didn’t matter.

* * *

 

Crowley couldn’t wait for Dick to leave, so it only made sense the bastard would linger around.

He still wouldn’t give him more than the assurance he’d contemplate making a deal.

“Just think about it, Mr. Crowley. We could control this city if we wanted”.

He almost told him he’d never been tempted to become king, thank you very much, but he’d rather he finally leave, which he did after another sleazy smile.

He really didn’t like that guy.

As soon as he’d gone, he called Garth.

“I need to go home. There’s something the matter with Gavin...”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir. How is he doing?”

Dean had thankfully sent him a text after they’d arrived at the house, so that he could answer, “He seems to be doing well for the circumstances.”

“I’ll be down in an instant”.

He was indeed already waiting for him when he stepped out of the elevator. Sometimes, he had to wait for a minute (which he’d never been angry about since Garth was an excellent driver) and he was rather grateful he didn’t have to today.

“As quickly as possible please, without breaking any laws”.

“Don’t worry, sir, I’ll get you to your son”.

And indeed, the drive that usually took about half an hour only took twenty minutes.

“Thank you, Garth” he said, stepping out of the car.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s my job. Hope the kid’s okay – oh, hi, Dean”.

Indeed Dean had opened the front door; he must have heard the car.

He blushed, but showed no other reaction as he greeted Garth.

“How is he?” Crowley asked immediately, only sparing one thought for how well the t-shirt he wore accentuated Dean’s eyes.

Garth had already started the car and was pulling away.

If he was wondering what Dean was doing here, he would keep it to himself. He’d always known when to be silent, one of the reasons he’d been Crowley’s favourite driver for years.

“He’s asleep now; he was pretty done for”.

For some reason, his face still looked red as he mumbled, “i made him tomato rice soup. It’s what my mom always made for me when I was sick”.

“Thank you.”

“No – “

“I mean it, Dean, I can’t thank you enough. You were in no way obligated to help – “

“What was I supposed to do, just leave the kid hyperventilating at school?”

Dean sat down on the sofa, he slumped down next to him less elegantly than he would have liked.

“I really hope he’ll agree to go to therapy”.

“Why?”

When Dean grimaced, he asked, “Did he tell you...”

Deans shrugged.

“Not sure. I mean, I’m sure he told me something, but he was already half-asleep so...”

He swallowed.

“He said “ _You know I never figured out why she had me in the first place. She told me herself she shouldn’t have_ ”.”

Suddenly Crowley was sorry after all Lilith was dead.

He would have enjoyed killing her with his own hands.

“I know” Dean said softly, looking at him.

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but... for now, he’s okay”.

He relaxed for the first time in two hours.

“Hey” Dean drew him into his arms. He didn’t resist.

“He was relieved you immediately sorted out how to get him home. I have the feeling Lilith wouldn’t have”.

“Look at me” he drawled, relaxing against Dean, “father of the year”.

He could hear the smile in Dean’s voice.

“Working your way up to it, at least”.

He cleared his throat. “There’s something else”.

He moved away and Crowley told himself it was ridiculous to miss him when he was only a few inches further away.

“Gavin... thinks we are dating”.

“What?”

“Yeah. He told the nurse I was your boyfriend”.

That... how could the boy possibly have had that idea?

Sure, Dean had been there quite a few times when he’d woken up, and they had had breakfast together, not to mention the dinners...

Oh.

Someone not privy to their arrangement might indeed have believed that they were dating, and people were always quick to assume a romantic connection.

“I’ll talk to him”.

Dean nodded, but looked away, and Crowley frowned.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Of course.”

He definitely sounded... off.

“I mean, the creep’s still trying to buy my shop”.

“You mentioned him before”.

“Yeah. He’s kind of... slimy but I’ll eventually shoo him away, don’t worry”.

“In case you can’t, I can always have him assassinated”.

Dean chuckled.

“Might be a bit drastic, don’t you think?”

“I have never been good at moderating myself”.

He drew him into a kiss.

“Speaking of...”

“You sure that’s wise? What about Gavin?”

“He slept for ten hours after his last panic attack, and we’re here”.

Dean had no further objections.

He still left before Gavin woke up, and Crowley felt a strange pang when the door closed behind him.

* * *

 

“You idiot” Dean mumbled to himself as he drove home, “You Goddamn idiot”.

He hadn’t known what was going on with him until Crowley had been baffled that anyone would think they were dating and it had hurt.

He hadn’t meant to develop feelings for him.

The situation had been so ideal, too – guy who had better things to do than look for a relationship, actually good company, the sex had been great –

“Damn it” he realized.

How could he possibly not have foreseen this? He always grew too attached.

Everything was going to be fine. Crowley had no idea. Dean would keep his head low, and these feelings too would pass.

At least that was what he told himself.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Crowley saw it fit to address the issue of his and Dean’s non-existent relationship the first chance he got. The one thing Gavin needed above all others right now was stability, and the clearer he was concerning them, the faster he’d get used to the way things were.

So, one evening, he slowly said, “Gavin, me and Dean...”

“Oh, I know you’re not _together_ together” he said immediately, “but the nurse would hardly have allowed me to leave with him if I’d said “This is my father’s fuck-buddy” would she?”

“Language” he reminded him as Gavin rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. Why not, by the way?”

“What do you mean?”

Another eye-roll. Crowley was starting to wonder whether they’d eventually get stuck.

“Why are you and Dean not together? You like each other, you seem to be... compatible” he shuddered, “He already met the family and didn’t run for the hills when he saw Gran...”

“That may be true, but we have no feelings for each other and are not looking for a romantic relationship. Certainly, as a teenager, you get that we are waiting for “the one”?” he asked sarcastically.

Gavin muttered something that sounded like “clueless idiots” but he didn’t ask.

After a pause he slowly said, “I have been thinking about therapy. I think I’d like to try”.

Crowley nodded, carefully shielding his expression. That decision must come from Gavin alone.

Had he been trying to manipulate him slightly by letting him take his time and would he have tried to change his opinion if he’d decided differently? Of course. But that wasn’t necessary now.

“I’ll take a look at the options”.

“Thank you”.

The door bell rang.

They sighed simultaneously, being aware it could only be one person.

“Fergus, you look well. Gavin – have you put on a little weight?”

“As a matter of fact he has mother, and you know as well as I do that’s perfectly healthy”.

Rowena smiled at him as she sat down in the living room.

“I just wanted to check up on you... a little birdie told me that a very good-looking man in a big black car brought our boy home the other day and that you returned from work early to be with them”.

It had probably been “Miss Olivette”, as she invariably introduced herself, the old lady from across the street. Crowley had never liked her.

“I had a panic attack at school” Gavin said lightly. “Dean picked me up because he couldn’t”.

Disarm her with the truth.

His son alright.

“A panic attacked? What happened?”

Of course she saw it as a weakness to exploit. He couldn’t remember how often he’d made fun of him for being the product of an orgy.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m getting help”.

He really was far too good at deflecting the little insults she threw at him.

He must have been used to far worse.

Yes, Crowley was glad he had agreed to therapy.

“Mother, is there another reason for your visit? Because we are well, as you can see, so...”

“You would kick your own mother out of your house?”

“Yes, he would, and I would enjoy watching”.

After she’d told them both what she thought of them, she left, slamming the door behind her.

Gavin began, “Now that that’s over... I’m gonna turn sixteen in a few months. Let’s say I am nice and go to therapy regularly... does this mean I get to have driving lessons, too?”

“Are you negotiating with me?”

Crowley grinned.

“That’s my boy”.

Later that night, Dean called.

“Hey. Just wanted to make sure the kid’s okay”.

“He is, thank you”.

Normally, they would have hung up after that, but Crowley found himself asking, “How was your day?”

And Dean told him all about the cars he’d been working on as he felt the tension from his mother’s visit finally draining out of him.

* * *

 

Time passed.

His and Dean’s arrangement held; and since Gavin was aware of it, Crowley had no objections to him befriending the mechanic. Dean was too good a man to cut him out of his life once their liaison ended.

Crowley found himself more comfortable than he’d ever hoped he could be when his son had come to live with him.

At work, everything was going smoothly as well; his and Dick’s negotiations wore on, and it seemed like they would eventually reach a consensus that would make both of them a lot of money.

After some deliberation, Crowley had decided that Dr. Ellen Harvelle was the best choice he could make as a therapist; she specialized in children and teenagers, and she explicitly stated that she’d done a lot of work with abuse victims.

Of course things didn’t change immediately. Gavin could still be standoffish and morose when he wanted to be, and sometimes he still tried to hurt him out of no other reason than because every thought of his mother caused him pain, but Dr. Harvelle had assured him that this was normal behaviour.

Yes, he thought one day, after another meeting with Sam – there’d been a slight uncertainty as to some shares he was holding, but it had all turned out to be nothing – things were going well, almost suspiciously well.

“Would you like to accompany to lunch?” he asked spontaneously. Normally he ate alone, but he quite liked Sam, and there was no harm in buying him a meal if it ensured he’d be able to use his excellent services in the future.

And of course he was Dean’s brother, but he was not going to speak about him to Sam. As far as he knew, the lawyer knew nothing about their... assignations.

* * *

Sam was more than a little surprised when Crowley invited him to lunch. Not only had he always been certain the man preferred to be alone, but he could have been ready to bet that he never did anything for anyone without hoping to get something for himself.

But through the whole meal he never once mentioned that he needed a favour.

Maybe it was payment for having helped with the custody papers? But that had been months ago.

Thinking about it later, Sam realized that Crowley hadn’t acted at all like the man he’d come to know.

Sure, he was as clever and calculating as he’d always been, but for lack of a better word, he looked... much happier. His smiles actually seemed genuine now and not just ploys to draw people in, and his eyes were... almost glowing.

“Do I have to be worried? You seem awfully interested in him” Sarah teased him that night.

“I’ve just known him for years, and he’s never acted that way. Not once”.

“Maybe he’s in love” his wife suggested.

Sam almost spat his drink.

“Fergus Crowley? In love? Right”.

“You don’t know how he is in private”.

“Let’s say I do know that the first thing he said when confronted with his own son was “I want a paternity test” within his hearing”.

Sarah winced.

“Alright, so he doesn’t have the best filter, but he said the boy’s doing okay, right?”

“Yeah. Apparently he got him a therapist”.

“That was good of him”.

Sam shrugged.

“My point is, even if I could see him falling in love, I can’t imagine anyone willing to take him. It’s not my place to say, of course, it’s just... something’s about him has always given me the creeps, and suddenly this is gone.”

“But that’s good, isn’t it?”

“I suppose” he said slowly.

He’d just have to wait and see.

* * *

Dean would think that it had been inevitable that Sam found out, but only much later, when he was back at his apartment.

His first reaction to what he had just done was pure mortification.

Really, he hadn’t thought about what he was saying when Sam had absent-mindedly mumbled to himself that he had to find his calendar and that he wasn’t sure whether he was meeting Crowley on Tuesday or Thursday, so he had simply replied, “He’s on a conference until Wednesday, so it must be Thursday”.

He’d decided to allow Gavin to stay home alone, provided that he call him at least once a day and allow Dean to drop in now and then to check up on him.

When he looked up from his plate, both Sam and Sarah were staring at him.

He realized what he’d just said.

“Dean” Sam began slowly, “For the love of God, tell me you’re not sleeping with Fergus Crowley”.

“What makes you think that? We could just be – “

“Oh God, you’re being defensive” he groaned. “You _are_ sleeping with him”.

“And what if I was? Come on Sammy, It’s just a little fun, and it’s not like you have any magic lawyer secrets I can share with him – “

“How long has this been going on?”

He was silent.

“Dean?”

“About three months” he admitted.

“Three months is a bit long for a fling”.

“It’s – we’re friends with benefits, alright? I mean, we have dinner, and sometimes I hang out with him and his kid, and this week I look after Gavin a little while he’s in –  “

“Wait a moment, you’re babysitting for him?”

“He’s fifteen, that’s hardly babysitting”.

“Dean” Sam said calmly, “I know you. You’re growing attached”.

“I told you it was just – “

“Yes, I know what you told me it was, but that doesn’t mean you’re not developing feelings for him”.

“I’m not, alright? I’m sure I’d know if I was”.

Sam sighed.

“I know you won’t do anything I ask you to, not when it comes to... this, but Dean, please be careful. I know Crowley. I don’t want you to get hurt”.

“Aw, Sammy, thanks for looking after me, but I promise I’ll be fine”.

Dean had done his best to forget all about those stupid little fantasies where he, Crowley and Gavin actually ended up as a family. The guy was so far out of his league it wasn’t even funny.

He didn’t know that, as soon as they door had closed behind him that night, Sam turned around to Sarah with a worried expression.

“He’s falling for him”.

“I was hoping that was just my impression”.

Sam let himself slump down on the sofa.

“Why does it have to be Crowley, of all people? Anyone would be glad to have Dean, but he – “

“Sam” Sarah suddenly interrupted him, “remember our talk about a week back? About Crowley? You know, after he’d invited you to lunch”.

Sam’s eyes widened.

“Are you saying – you think he could – “

“We don’t know anything, really, but it’s just possible”.

If there was one thing he hadn’t seen coming, it was Fergus Crowley possibly falling for his brother.

Sure, Dean was awesome, and he’d meant what he said – anyone would be glad to have him. But Crowley? The hard, unrelenting business man he knew falling for his kind, honourable brother?

“If they end up happy... I wouldn’t mind” Sarah said.

“Neither would I” Sam answered grimly, “But I’m afraid that won’t be what happens”.

He’d have given anything to be wrong, in the end.

At first, things seemed to progress pretty well. Not that Dean told him details (thank God) but his brother continued to look and act happier and happier as the weeks went on, and that change in Crowley Sam had noticed didn’t disappear; quite the contrary, really. Every time they met, he and Crowley made small talk now.

Only they never talked about the topic Sam desperately wanted to address, but never knew how. Crowley wasn’t even aware that he knew, he believed.

And then came the day he came to be delighted he’d never tried to broach the subject.

Contracts coming in from Crowley, Inc. were nothing new; he was slowly going through the newest one when he realized.

Dick Roman planned to open a chain of mechanic shops in Kansas.

And Sam knew a lot about Dick Roman – guy had had more law suits thrown at him than most other American business men.

His best tactic was to put every single rival out of business.

And hadn’t Dean mentioned a sleazy guy who’d wanted to buy the shop?

Fergus Crowley had been sleeping with his brother at the same time as he was backing the guy trying to take away his livelihood.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Things were pretty good.

Sure, now and then, lying next to Crowley at night, there was this feeling at the pit of his stomach that Dean didn’t dare explore, and he was probably growing fonder of Gavin than he should since he wasn’t family; but all in all, his business was booming, he had an awesome part- friend with benefits, he had his friends, he had Sammy, he was doing well.

Not even Dick Roman could dampen his mood with his constant proposals to buy the shop. Guy was giving him the creeps; sometimes he had half a mind to accept Crowley’s offer just to watch him crash and burn.

Whatever. He wasn’t about to sell his garage, and eventually he had to get the hint.

Of freaking course it all had to come crushing down, because this was his life.

He was working on a Mustang, thoroughly enjoying himself. It was Monday afternoon; he’d spent almost all weekend with Crowley and Gavin, who was definitely making progress under therapy; and he and Crowley had been texting through the morning.

So what if his heart started beating faster when his alert rang out? No one had to know, and he’d deal with it when this came to an end. He’d have more than enough time for it then.

He was just enjoying the ride while it lasted.

He couldn’t have known it was about to hit a wall and brutally eject him.

Sam called.

“Hey, Sammy”.

“Dean...” he sounded weird. Dean frowned.

“We need to talk”.

“Is Sarah okay?”

“What – yes, don’t worry, no one’s hurt. I just... there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Are you ill?” he asked immediately.

“No, I told you no one’s hurt... It’s just... look, can I come to the shop?”

“Sure” he said. “You can – “

“Okay, I am on my way”.

He hung up.

Dean was instantly worried.

 Sure, he’d told him everyone was alright, but why would he leave his busy practice and come here in the middle of the day when he could wait until Dean was closing the shop down?

“Hey Charlie” he called out, “Sam’s about to get here. Tell me as soon as he arrives, okay?”

“I will. Something wrong?”

“I’m not sure” he said.

Charlie wisely didn’t reply.

Dean’s bad feeling sky-rocketed as soon as he saw his brother.

Sam looked awfully troubled.

He led him into his office, well aware that Charlie was shooting them concerned looks.

“Sammy, what’s wrong?”

“I...”

He ran his fingers through his hair. Dean had always hoped the little punk would get a haircut when he became a lawyer, but he had persisted in looking like a hippie even in court.

“I don’t know how to say this” he finally breathed. “But... there’s something you need to read”.

He got a contract out of his brief case and held it out to Dean.

He huffed.

“Come on, you know all that law speak is beyond me...”

“Dean, I know you like pretending you don’t get stuff you think you’re not supposed to understand, but this is important”.

He sighed and took it.

A contract between Dick’s Empire Inc. (of course, that douche bag) and... Crowley?

He let himself sink down in his chair.

He said nothing as he went through the proposed contract.

“So Roman wants to open a chain of mechanic shops”.

Sam nodded.

“I assume he’s gonna try and get all the others to close their business?”

“It’s his stick, from what I can gather” Sam replied helplessly. “Dean...”

“It’s alright”. He handed him back the contract.

Maybe he should have been angry, but instead he only felt numb.

Perhaps anger would come later, when he’d managed to wrap his head around the fact that the guy he was crazy about didn’t even care enough to tell him he was about to casually destroy his means of living.

“You shouldn’t have shown me that. I’m pretty sure that falls under your whole client-attorney secrecy oath, doesn’t’ it?”

“How could I not?”

After a pause Sam added, “I’m so sorry”.

“You don’t have to be, you’re not the one making deals with Dick Roman of all people”.

He took a deep breath.

“Just wish he’d told me.”

“Yeah” Sam said bitterly.

“Hey, you have nothing to blame yourself for. You tried to warn me. Guess I... thought he cared about me just a little. My mistake”.

“Dean...”

“I’m telling you it’s ok”.

“And I know it’s not”.

He shook his head.

“Yeah, alright? It’s not. It freaking sucks. But I’ll deal with it. I’m a big boy”.

Sam smiled weakly.

“I’ll break it off, of course. No point in pretending. Don’t worry; I won’t tell him why. We were never... he doesn’t even think of me enough to want a reason, I suppose”.

All these moments when he’d thought, when he’d let himself believe that maybe, he was just a little more to Crowley too...

You’re an idiot, he told himself. An idiot who allowed himself to... You really deserve whatever you’ve got coming.

“Dean, I’m really sorry”.

“Again, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Thank you; really”.

They hugged and Sam left soon afterwards.

Charlie immediately barged into his office.

“What – “

“Let’s say, if we’re lucky you get to keep your job. If not...”

Of course he had to tell her after that.

“Are you kidding me?” she fumed. “He just goes and does that behind your back – “

“He’s not – we’re not together. He has absolutely no obligations regarding little old me”.

Her eyes softened.

“Dean...”

“Look, I’ll break it off, and I’ll work on cars, and come the weekend, I’m probably gonna get drunk, and we’ll keep rolling and that’s it”.

He wished he could have believed himself.

* * *

 

Crowley had no idea what had happened.

But suddenly his texts to Dean went unanswered.

Not completely – after the first couple he’d got a reply of exactly two word, “sorry, busy”, and that had been it.

But that had been three days ago.

 _Gavin_ had asked after Dean already.

And yesterday his mother had commented on his bad mood. Which was ridiculous because Dean Winchester had no influence whatsoever over how he felt. Sure, the sex was great and him getting along with his son was an unlooked for bonus, but that didn’t mean he had to hear from him every single day.

Perfectly sound logic, really; but that didn’t explain why Crowley found himself in front of the garage the next day. Garth had driven him over and was currently doing a good job pretending to read a newspaper in the front seat.

He went in. A redheaded woman was sitting at the reception.

“Excuse me, I’d like to speak to Dean.”

“Sure. Can I have your name though?”

“Crowley. Fer –“

She had already stormed off with a murderous expression on her face.

What was going on? He’d never seen her in his life.

Dean came out, but there was no smile for him, no wink, not even a proper greeting.

“Crowley”.

He looked tired and worn down, and he was instantly worried.

“Dean. Are you alright?”

He laughed somewhat bitterly.

“Of course. What do you want?”

That didn’t sound like him at all.

“Dean...”

“Alright” he said abruptly, “I hoped you’d take the hint but if you want to hear me say it: It’s over, Crowley”.

The words hit him like a punch in the gut.

“What? Why?”

“I’m just done. It’s not like we were together.”

Dean looked like he wanted to add anything, then shook his head.

“Goodbye, Crowley. Greet Gavin from me, alright? Hope his therapy goes well”.

It was the one thing said that sounded like Dean meant it.

Before he could answer, Dean had already gone back to whatever car he was fixing, and the red head showed back up at the desk.

Charlie, he remembered. Dean had mentioned her enough times.

Not that it mattered now, apparently, because Dean had just broken up with him...

No, not _broken up_. They hadn’t been together; he couldn’t leave him since they had never been a couple.

The problem with that was that...

He only now understood how much he wanted them to be able to break up properly.

_He loved Dean._

The realization shocked him to his core.

He’d never been in love before, and had long ago come to the conclusion that he was incapable of it due to his upbringing.

And now here he was, with the only person he had ever wanted to be with, and he’d just told him it was over.

He swallowed.

“You’re still here? I thought Dean had shown you the door.”

He looked at Charlie.

“You don’t seem to be very aware of how to deal with people walking into your place of business”.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you’re aware enough for both of us” she snapped. “Get. Out”.

He did, mostly because he was utterly baffled at the turn of events. Even if he had thought Dean was about to end their arrangement, he wouldn’t have expected him to be... abrupt about it.

“Sir, are you alright?”

“I’m quite well, Garth” he answered automatically as he opened the door and got in.

“Home, please”.

“Of course”.

Garth was blessedly silent during the short ride.

Crowley was busy staring out the window and wondering what he’d done wrong.

Because even with his well-known ability to hold a grudge, he felt confident enough in his knowledge of Dean’s personality to realize he would definitely had preferred a more... amicable split.

Something must have angered him, but Crowley couldn’t think of a single thing. What could he possibly have hear about him? Their texts, up until Dean had decided it was busy, had been completely normal...

When Garth dropped him off at home, he quickly schooled his features.

He hadn’t wanted to worry Gavin, but of course not only his son but also his mother would be waiting for him.

Gavin sprang up from the sofa as soon as he entered the living room, relief evident on his face.

“Hello, Father. I’ll get you a glass of water”.

He hurried into the kitchen to get away from Rowena, while Crowley reflected that of course he would call him “Father” for the first time on a day when he couldn’t even be half as happy about it as he probably would have been if the situation had been otherwise.

“You look awful” his mother said happily. “What happened?”

His first instinct was to lie and say nothing; but he would have to tell them eventually, and he should get it over with. Like ripping off a band-aid.

So after he’d thanked Gavin for the water he casually said, “Dean won’t come over anymore”.

“What? Why?” Gavin asked while Rowena just wanted to know, “What have you done now?”

Despite having asked himself the same question a hundred times since he’d left the shop, he told her, “Nothing. Things just come to an end.”

“But things were alright last weekend!” Gavin insisted and then, to his secret relief, went straight upstairs to his room and slammed the door behind him as he used to do since he came to live here...

That habit had only tampered down in the last few weeks, since he had met...

He sighed and sat down.

“Go on, mother. I am sure you have something to say”.

She took him in, and with a strange mixture of pity and glee in her voice said, “There’s nothing left for me to do; you broke your own heart this time”.

Then she left him alone to ponder his mistakes.

A while later, he went up to Gavin’s room.

He was reading on his bed.

Crowley sat down next to him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, of course”.

Then, after a pause, he asked, “But Father, why?”

“Relationships are complicated...”

“But you’re in love with him”.

Of course his son had noticed before he did.

“Yes, but that is not the point”.

“Then what is?”

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out”.

And he went to pour himself a large glass of Craig while thinking about the mistakes he had made.

The next morning, after a night spent tossing and turning and a silent breakfast with his angry son, he realized with a sigh that he had another meeting with Sam.

He would have hoped the lawyer could differentiate between a personal and a business relationship, but he was as rude, cold and unpleasant as if his brother’s heart had got broken instead of Crowley’s.

When they were finally done, he could have just let him walk away, fully knowing that next time he would be confronted with a substitute, and that he’d likely never see either brother again.

But he had to know.

And so, Sam’s hand already on the door, he called out, “Sam, please. Just tell me why”.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, reviews are a good thing. It made me rewrite this chapter, and I think that's really for the better.

Sam really hoped that he’d just heard this wrong.

He turned around.

“You don’t know?” he asked slowly.

One word he’d never have associated with Crowley was _naive_.

He surely couldn’t have thought that Dean wouldn’t be pissed that he was making deals with the creep who’d been after his shop –

 _Wait a second_. Had Dean ever told him that it was Roman?

Sam had never asked.

God damn it.

He’d known Dean was insecure, he’d known that he already thought no one in their right mind would ever care much for him, and furthermore, he’d known that the thing he had going with Crowley actually made him happy.

Dean blowing up on him had been all too predictable, but Sam had been too scared for his brother’s well-being and too angry himself to consider that they should take some time to talk it all over.

 “I don’t” Crowley confirmed calmly.

Or – no, wait – not calmly at all.

Ever since he’d asked him to that first lunch, it had become part of their routine; and while Sam had looked at the invitations with mixed feelings, especially since he’d learned of his and Dean’s... arrangement, he’d learned to read him better through them.

And Crowley wasn’t just confused or casually wondering why Dean would have broken things off.

He was downright _miserable_.

Sam had never seen him like this; and to his surprise, he suddenly felt sorry for him, even after several days of watching Dean feel sorry for himself and as worthless as he’d always believed himself to be.

“The contract with Dick Roman... He was the guy who was trying to take over Dean’s shop. And when it turned out you were backing him in order to open a whole chain of cheap shops, which Dean simply would not be able to hold up with...”

Crowley’s eyes widened and Sam was confronted with something he’d never thought about before.

Crowley was, without a doubt, one of the most intelligent people he’d ever met in his life; he could hardly have built up his consulting firm if he hadn’t been; but one thing he’d always been adamant about had been the separation of his private life and his work. Until he’d approached him about the custody papers, he’d never mentioned or shared anything with him pertaining to himself rather than his firm.

There was the distinct possibility that the smartest man in town had never stopped and considered the man he was sleeping with while discussing business because... well, because he simply didn’t _do_ things like that.

“Seriously? You heard “mechanic” and didn’t think of Dean? I mean, yes, I know there are others out there, but I always do think of him first since he’s my brother, surely you...”

 “I...” Crowley mumbled something.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said I try not to think of him at work, it distracts me too easily.”

“It distracts...”

Sam had no idea what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t Crowley...

But that almost sounded like he...

Like he...

“Of course I care about him – “

“Okay, okay, look” Sam decided. He was tired of misunderstandings, and he was tired of Dean being miserable when there was a chance...

“You know that Dean is in love with you, right?”

No one could possibly be this blind.

Only Crowley could, apparently.

“Dean is in love with me?”

Now, while obviously astonished, he didn’t look that miserable. On the contrary, he looked... dare Sam say it... hopeful?

“Yeah, and everyone but you apparently noticed” he said.

At this, Crowley finally sprang into action. He simply strolled past Sam and told him over his shoulder, “Scrap the contract. Frankly, there’s no need for it and Dick Roman is not the kind of guy I wish to see regularly”.

“But – what – “

“Right now I have to apologize to Dean, and hope we can work through this rather unfortunate episode. There is no point in us both being miserable, since I reciprocate his affections”.

 “But you – “

“Yes, I know, you’ve never thought much of me and I am a little old for your brother – but since Dean seems to want me, I, quite frankly, intend to do away with these misunderstandings”.

Only Crowley would talk about his romantic life like a business deal, but frankly Sam was too astonished to say something until the door closed behind Crowley and he was already shouting for Simmons to get his driver.

Good God.

And he’d always thought he was an emotionless psychopath.

* * *

 

Working on cars helped. It always did.

Cars were reliable. They didn’t change.

And dean wasn’t so dumb to put any hopes on cars, that was a plus too.

He should have known himself better, should have pulled away far earlier, but nope, he just had to ride that fake family feeling for too long and now he was stuck with feelings for a man who’d probably have forgotten his name by the end of the week.

And worst of all was that he’d acted like a dick too, then.

Gavin and he had texted a bit over the last few days, but it was just so freaking awkward.

He’d done what he always did, just pressed ahead and not thought of the consequences. And really, did the contract mean that Crowley didn’t care at all? He should have let him explain, he should have asked...

But nope, he’d had to go ahead and ruin it all, in patented Winchester fashion.

He had just finished the Toyota he was working on when he heard Charlie raising her voice. That was strange in itself; she was as bubbly and relaxed as they came, so why...

“I’m telling you, out!” she shrieked. “He’s been through enough...”

He put his tools away and hurried to the reception, worried that Dick Roman was trying to buy his shop again since he couldn’t think of anything else that would push Charlie over the edge.

In the next moment, he stood still.

“Crowley”.

“Dean” he said, relieved. “Your lovely employee wouldn’t let me see you – “

“There’s no reason to, jackass”.

“Charlie” he pleaded, “I’m sure Crowley’s got a reason to be here”.

If Charlie had one fault, it was her warm heart and her sometimes too strong affection for those she loved.

Dean could relate.

“I do. I wanted to – “

“Let’s go to my office” he decided. He didn’t want Charlie to hear. He could break the news to her afterwards.

“What are you doing here?” he asked as soon as the door had closed behind them.

“Sam told me why you broke – “

He cursed.

“Look I’m sorry – I know Sam wasn’t supposed to show me – please don’t take it out on him. If you have to be angry at anyone, choose me. I’m the one who ruined this, and I’m sorry”.

 “Dean – I would never”.

If he hadn’t known it better, he’d have said Crowley looked sorry.

“The truth is” he continued, “I didn’t think of you at all during Roman’s and my meetings”.

That hurt. He took a step back.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!”

Crowley moved forward, and he quickly sat down at his desk.

Crowley frowned.

“I know I hurt you.”

“Crowley, like I said, I overreacted. Sam shouldn’t have shown me the papers, I shouldn’t have freaked, please... Let’s just leave it at that – “

“ I never meant to... not think of you. I have – I have never had anyone to consider when talking deals.”

“Never?”

“Never. You were the closest thing to a relationship I ever had”.

A pause.

“I only wish I’d realized how much I want it to be earlier”.

“Wait, what?”

“I – when Sam told me – I – “

Crowley frowned.

“This is by no means as easy as movie and books make it out to be”.

“What the hell are you trying to – “

“I can’t hurt you, Dean” he said eagerly.

“i just – I can’t hurt _you_ ”.

Something was dawning on Dean, but even so, he could hardly believe it.

“Is that – are you – are you serious? If this is what I think it is, it is the crappiest love confession ever!”

“It’s the best I can do! I thought you were sorry for overreacting – ”

“I am, but can we concentrate on the talk at hand?”

A pause. Then Dean slowly said, “You love me”.

“Yes” Crowley replied, relieved.

“You have a funs way of showing it, I gotta say”.

“Might I dare say likewise? I know I probably shouldn’t point it out, but you and your brother are indeed to blame for assuming – “

“But you’re doing it anyway”.

“You know me so well”.

Dean sighed and looked down.

He knew Crowley was right. Furthermore, he knew he’d just proven that he simply wasn’t cut out for a serious relationship that required, God forbid, talking from time to time.

But the thought of never seeing him again –

“Okay, let’s break this down. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Neither should Sam. Basically I let my insecurities get to me. And you... alright, let’s say you might have considered what I do for a living, but really there’s been no harm done so far. Really we’ve both proven that we should probably stay far away from each other. Good for you I’m the only guy in this city dumb enough to think we can actually make it work”.

He looked up, and Crowley’s eyes shone with hope.

“Alright” he said, “a few ground rules. We are dating. Exclusively”.

“Of course”.

“I am keeping Baby, no matter how fancy your limousines get”.

“I wouldn’t expect anything different”.

“I won’t be your kept man”.

“Nothing could be further from my mind”.

“We kick Dick Roman out of the city”.

 “Naturally. I already told your brother to scrap the contract”.

“You did?”

“Yes. Once I realized it had the potential of harming you...” he trailed off.

Dean couldn’t deny the butterflies flying around in his stomach.

“I get to cook most of the time, because I love it... oh and I’m allowed to look after you. You work too much, that can’t be healthy”.

Crowley sighed.

“If you have to...”

Dean grinned. He got up and walked up to Crowley.

“So we’re doing this, huh.”

“As a wise man said, since you’re the only one dumb enough to – “

Dean never heard the end of that sentence, because he was busy kissing the speaker.

Of course it was at this moment that Charlie decided to make an entrance.

“Excuse me, I was wondering whether you and your visitor wanted coffee and alright I should probably apologize, sorry for earlier, now that that’s out of the way, that’s it, Mr., if you’re playing him I am hacking into every single one of your databases and running your business tonight” she said in one breath.

They pulled apart, but Crowley still held onto him.

Dean groaned and let his head fall on Crowley’s shoulder.

“Extremely bad timing, Charlie.”

“But very informative” Crowley drawled. “I am sure we’ll become good friends, Miss Bradbury”.

“Jury’s still out on that one, Mr. Mafia suit. Now I demand to know your intentions”.

“Charlie – “

“Keeping Dean in whatever way he’ll have me. So currently we are dating, but I wouldn’t be opposed to marriage in the future.”

“You going to insist on a pre-nup?”

“No. I intend to stay with him for the rest of my life.”

“What the hell – you can’t just say stuff like that!”

“Why not? You thought my confession of love lacking earlier”.

Charlie chuckled.

“Alright, you win that one. I could actually see us getting along.”

Crowley finally let go of Dena to smirk at her.

“Hello? Still here” Dean said.

“Trust me, darling, I never ignore you”.

“Okay, I’ll go before I get traumatized. Have fun, kids. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Charlie, that means we would remain celibate!”

She laughed as he left.

“Sorry about her”.

“She’s very fond of you”.

Dean shrugged.

“We’ve been friends since high school”.

“I can see why”.

Crowley smiled at him – a real, heartfelt smile for once instead of a sarcastic smirk – and Dean’s heart was doing that thing where it tried to escape his ribcage again.

Without a question, he was doing something completely insane by trying to keep them together against the odds.

But by God, did it feel good.

He kissed him again.

The cars could wait.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the grand finale of my first multi-chapter Drowley fic. They're not quite riding off into the sunset, but there's lots of fluff ahead. Enjoy!

_Come home with me_ , Crowley had said, and Dean had seen absolutely no reason not to.

But, as it turned out, high on romance as they were, they had once more failed to consider a certain someone who was due home from school.

“Why is Dean’s car – do you really have to make out on the couch I thought I was supposed to do that!”

“Hello to you too, Gavin” Dean said, moving away from his – boyfriend.

“So... you’re what now? ‘Cause I’m slightly confused, and you know, traumatized kids are supposed to be treated well –“

“Will that be your excuse whenever you want to get out of doing chores from now?” Crowley asked.

“Of course.”

“Well, then, Dean and I are dating.”

“Okay, cool. So what are we eating?”

Of course that would be all the reaction they would get.

Dean rolled his eyes.

“I strongly assume I’m supposed to cook?”

“We can cook together” Crowley said immediately.

“Ugh, are you going to make heart eyes at him all the time now?”

“You were the one who was upset he wasn’t going to be coming around anymore...”

“Alright, I’m not even sure I want to know” Dean said. “Come on, I need help in the kitchen”.

* * *

 

 After a well-timed nudge or two, Crowley got the hint and left Dean and Gavin alone in the kitchen for a few minutes.

“So you’re dating properly now? No more non-breakups?”

Dean winced.

“Haven’t played any. And sorry for my texts these past few days”.

“Nothing to be sorry for, you were nice. Even though you were just as mopey as Father”.

Dean chuckled. “I might have been a bit down, granted. So how are you?”

“Do you want the short or the long answer?”

“I’d settle for a truthful one”.

Gavin looked away.

Then, he slowly said, “I think... therapy helps. Sometimes I still feel pretty bad, but this is... much better than before”.

“I’m glad” Dean told him honestly.

That evening, Gavin surprised them both with hugs before retiring.

“He’s never done that before” Crowley observed.”

“Also never heard him call you Father until today...” Dean reached out for him.

“Guess times are changing, aren’t they?”

Crowley drew him in for a kiss.

“Squirrel you have no idea”.

* * *

 

 The next morning, he was doing paperwork for the shop with a smile on his face for once, his phone rang.

Sam didn’t sound overjoyed, but neither did he seem to be upset; if anything, he was cautious.

 “What did Charlie just tell me about you and Crowley?”

“I thought you’d be happy for me”.

“I am – I mean I’m happy if you’re happy – but it’s Crowley.  Apparently I was wrong about him, but years of meeting the guy and watching him waltz over anyone who dared cross him are pretty hard to get over. Are you sure he won’t flip sides just because he can somewhere down the line?”

“Yeah, I am. I can’t really explain it but... I really am”.

Sam sighed.

“Alright. I trust you on this. But please Dean, be careful”.

“Don’t worry Sam, I’m in good hands”.

“Sammy told me to be careful” he told Crowley in bed that night.

“And? Are you planning to be?”

“Hell no” he said and kissed him.

* * *

 

The next week, when Dick Roman marched into his office with a smile on his face, Crowley told him in no uncertain terms what he thought of his proposal and threw him out.

When Simmons commented on his “change of heart” Crowley decided it was high time to get rid of her, too.

Why had he been surrounding himself with people who hated him anyway? That was no way to do a good job.

Roman tried to take his revenge, but Crowley’s business associates knew what they had, and after another week, he’d left the state, tail between his legs.

By this point, Dean was all but living with him and Gavin. As he’d explained it when he brought his duffle bag over, “We’re not children, are we?”

Fine by Crowley, really.  

* * *

 

 “Look at that. Is that even the same guy?” Sam whispered dramatically.

“Finding the love of your life can change people”.

“They haven’t even properly been together for three weeks yet!”

Sarah rolled her eyes as she watched Crowley, Dean and Gavin bicker at their barbecue.

“No, but I can see the way they look at one another”.

“Me too” he finally agreed, “And Charlie seems to like him, so that’s a good sign”.

Indeed she had now begun to chat with Gavin, probably about video games, while Dean and Crowley were lost in their own little world talking to one another.

Sam would never have thought they could make a good couple, but they already moved around one another with the familiarity of people who’d been together for years.

That was it, then, apparently. Crowley was firmly part of their family unit, and Dean had gained a teenage stepson who was still undergoing therapy.

Sam would say that – Dean was probably the best thing that could happen to a traumatized boy.

* * *

 

Rowena, after not having shown up for four weeks (she’d probably been on another cruise, slamming down Harvey Wallbangers with rich Republicans) arrived on their doorstep one evening, intent on seeing how the break-up was treating her son.

Instead what she came across where him, Dean and Gavin preparing dinner together.

“Dean! How nice of you to drop by!”

“Yeah, decided I’d drop in – a week or so ago, you know how it is”.

Slightly taken aback by how relaxed Crowley looked, she asked, “So you two are...”

“Dating” Dean supplied helpfully. “Yes, we hit a hard spot there, but we talked and everything’s fine now.”

“Yes, things are going rather well” Crowley said, mustering Dean with an expression on his face she’d never seen there before.

Devotion. Utter, helpless devotion.

She swallowed.

For years now, she and her son had made each other unhappy, and there had never been any doubt in her mind that he’d die as lonely as he had lived; but that did not seem to be the case anymore.

And with Dean cheerfully inviting her to dinner and Gavin seemingly agreeing with him, she couldn’t help but think that, if she wished to and if she was careful, a new chance for them might be ahead.

* * *

 

Several months into their relationship, Crowley once more contemplated funding a mechanic’s shop so it could create its own chain – but it certainly wasn’t Dick Roman’s.

“Crowley, are you sure?” Dean asked. “I might be a decent mechanic, but I’m not...”

He kissed him.

“You are amazing at what you do, Dean Winchester. Trust me; I’m only ever satisfied with the best of the best”.

He laughed.

“You know you’re a bit of a freak, right?”

“And you’re on the ride along with me, of your own free will.”

“Guess I am” he laughed.

* * *

 

“This one?”

“Father, that one’s way too expensive, you know Dean’s gonna have a heart attack”.

“I can afford it – “

“He likes it simple, and you’re well aware of that”.

It had been a good idea to take his son with him.

Among others.

At this point, Charlie skipped up to them.

“Here! The stone matches Dean’s eyes! It’s perfect!”

“Hey I saw it first” Sam complained from the back, Sarah assuring him that he hadn’t.

Crowley had never seen himself getting married, much less only a year into a relationship, but he knew that Dean was the one, as incredibly cheesy as it sounded.

They had their ups and downs, of course; every couple did; but they had yet to encounter an issue they couldn’t deal with, and he highly doubted one existed.

Sam had warmed up considerably during the last year; he’d even go so far as to call him a good friend now. Of course he’d made it clear in the beginning that he wouldn’t stand idly by if his brother was ever treated poorly.

He’d ignored every subtle threat thrown his way. He had no intention of hurting Dean again.

* * *

 

“Seriously?” Dean asked. “I come home all sweaty and tired from work, Gavin’s nowhere to be found and you put a pie on the table and ask me to marry you and that’s it?”

Before he could answer, he drew him into a kiss, murmuring against his lips, “Yes, of course. This is perfect”.

* * *

 

Their wedding was a small private affair, perfectly handled by Bela Talbot, who had replaced Simmons in the firm and gone on to become of their closest personal friends.

“Don’t worry guys, I won’t let anyone disturb your big day... although some of it is going to make the news. Not every day the head of one of the best known consulting firms in the States and that of a high-and-coming mechanic’s chain get married and ride off into the sunset.”

“They’ll come back” Gavin, who had somewhat of a crush on Bela, which she tolerated with a smile on her face, piped up.

“They always do”.

Building trust in them and their affection for him was important, Dr. Harvelle had instilled in them, and it seemed that they had succeeded in that, thank God.

As Crowley got married to the love of his life he couldn’t help but feel that he might not exactly deserve the lot he’d been given; but he’d never hesitated to take what was too good for him.

* * *

“Alright then sport, you’ll be eighteen soon and on your way to Harvard... like father, like son. So, what do you want for your birthday?”

Gavin shuffled his feet, uncharacteristically shy.

“Gavin?” Dean asked again.

They were relaxing in the backyard on a hot summer’s day. Crowley had just gone in to get them some water.

“I’d...” Gavin mumbled something.

“Sorry?”

“I’d... like you to adopt me. If you want. I mean, you don’t have to, and I understand if – “

Crowley came back to find them hugging, Dean looking decidedly teary-eyed.

**Eighteen years later**

“I’m telling you, there’s only one thing they could possibly want to tell us... they announced they got news. This is special”.

“You’re just desperate for a grandbaby.”

“As if you wouldn’t like something young around here” Dean said, then looked up when a thump emitted from upstairs.

“Well, younger. I know he and Fiona have been trying for a while, and a baby might get you out of your flunk”.

“I’m not in a flunk.”

“Please. We’re married. Do you really think I wouldn’t notice my husband getting into a “I’m old, woe is me” mood in the last few weeks? Just because you’re fifteen years older than me – “

“Thanks for mentioning it” he grumbled. Dean and Charlie were particularly fond of making jokes of him throwing himself away on an old man.

“Hey” Dean kissed him. “You’re still as sexy as you always were. Don’t know what I’d do without you”.

“I am sure you’d find a way to occupy the time” he teased, “but I’m pretty sure there are two certain someones who’d have every potential successor running for the hills within seconds”.

Dean laughed.

Crowley’s eyes wandered to the countless family portraits on their walls.

The last thing he’d expected when he and Dean got married had been that they would add to the family; but not three years later, their twins Emma and Mary had arrived, as bright-eyed, happy and demanding as any baby.

Nothing in his decades of clawing himself to the top had prepared him for it, but he couldn’t have asked for a better life. Or a better husband to share it with.

“Dad! Father!” Emma called won from upstairs. “When’s Gavin coming?”

The one thing they had been slightly worried about had been Gavin being uncomfortable as a twenty-year-older brother, but he’d been enamoured with the girls from the first.

“Fiona said six pm” he called back.

“They’re probably already planning the baby shower”.

“Which might not be necessary”.

“Trust my instincts”.

“Your instincts said to marry me, most would not consider that sound advice”.

“Would you rather I hadn’t?” he asked, his eyes sparkling.

“Quite the contrary”.

When the beautiful mechanic had first entered his life, Crowley had had no idea just how much of an impact he would have. He’d been looking for a distraction, and instead had run into the most wonderful man he’d ever met.

Dean suddenly laughed.

“Oh God, can you imagine your mother’s face when we tell her she’s about to be a great-grandmother?”

Oh God. His mother, well over ninety but still as sprightly as ever, had eventually been won over to be called “Gran” by what Dean had come to call “the twin magic”, but he could hardly imagine that she’d be happy about another proof that she was getting old.

Crowley smiled at his husband, who was once more fluttering around making sure the house looked “presentable”.

As if it was important since Gavin and Fiona lived not even ten minutes away from them and came over every day.

“Come here”.

“I’m busy”.

He held out his hand.

Dean joined him on the couch.

They kissed.

“Oh my God, I thought you got it out of your system way back when Gavin was our age!”

Of course this was the moment the girls decided to come down.

“Hello, girls” Crowley said smoothly.

“Father...” Mary shook her head at him.

“Let it go, Mary, we know they’ll never stop”.

“Of course not” Crowley confirmed, smiling at Emma.

He should have known from the first that he’d never want to stop kissing Dean.

His only defence was that at the time he hadn’t believed in love at first sight.

He’d forever be grateful to the man who’d shown him how wrong he was.

**Author's Note:**

> I will definitely do my best to update this weekly.  
> It's my birthday so if you want to, leave me kudos/comments as a present.


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